Joker's Daughter
by AlaskaChic Storywriter
Summary: When a girl named Gianna comes to Gotham to mourn her mother, she uncovers the true past of The Joker...
1. Chapter 1: Surprise

_A/N: Okay, this is my first ever fanfic, and I'm sorry if it isn't that good. I'm trying my hardest, and the only way I can possibly continue this story is through support. AKA reviews. If that isn't obvious. _

_-AC (AlaskaChic - too tiring to write out most of the time)_

**Chapter One**

Gianna rushed down the stairs and let her whining puppy out of his kennel and into the backyard. She got Bandit a month ago, and he was as bad as a newborn baby; he always had to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night. She leaned against the granite counter, waiting for her Siberian husky to run up to the glass sliding door. As she was waiting, she thought about the day she got Bandit…

-FLASHBACK STARTS-

"So you're thinking of adopting a dog?" a middle-aged woman asked, leading Gianna to the back of the shop.

"More like a puppy, Ms.…?"

"Lomilynn, Mary Lomilynn. And the only puppies I have are huskies, just shipped in."

"Siberian or Alaskan huskies?"

"Siberian, I believe."

"That'll work. Are they house-trained?"

Mary Lomilynn shook her head. As they reached the room, Mary stopped. "Remember, they're a bit excitable," she warned.

"Than what are we waiting for?"

Gianna opened the door and seven huskies started jumping all over her. They were all about a foot long and half that tall, except for one. He was smaller than his siblings, and had one brown eye and one light blue eye. There was black fur on his face that looked like a mask around his eyes, and he soon gave up trying to reach her. He looked like this happened a lot. All of his larger brothers and sisters were soon all over her, completely surrounding her. However, she had one question in mind.

"Is that dog half-blind?" She inquired, pointing out the runt.

"No, it's just the color of his eyes. Have you decided which you would like the most?"

"Yes. I want him, the one with markings around his eyes." Gianna answered, again pointing out the runt.

"Are you sure? He seems to not be as… social as the other puppies."

"He would be if his brothers and sisters let him. I want him."

"Do you even have a name for him?"

"Obviously, yeah."

"Okay then. I'll get you a mat for the car, some food, and some food and water dishes. Gianna nodded, and another man led her to the front with a squirming puppy in hand. He led her to the meeting cage at the front of the store, where you can have one-on-one time with the puppy you picked before you actually paid for him. He was so happy, probably guessing that he was going to get a home. Mary came back with a medium-sized kennel with a built-in water bowl and food dish. There was one on either side, so she could easily give one cup of dog food and half a water bottle to him. The kennel was a dark blue, and she was given dry food to feed him.

As Mary was ringing all of it up, she questioned, "If I may, what is the puppy's name?"

"You may. The puppy's name is Bandit."

-END FLASHBACK-

Bandit scratched the glass door, wanting to get in from the freezing cold of North New Jersey during December. It was seven minutes until December thirty-first, and eight until Gianna was twenty-one. She decided to pet her puppy before going back to bed, so she was up when she could drink alcohol. But she didn't feel like drinking beer or wine. She just wanted to sit down and rub her puppy's thick fur.

At twelve o one on December thirty-first, just when Gianna turned twenty-one, someone called her. She picked up her phone and looked at the caller ID, not comprehending why a random person would call her in the middle of the night, or even get her number. Without knowing why, she answered.

"Hello?"

"Hi. Are you Gianna Bryan Williams?"

Gianna scowled. "I prefer my mother's maiden name."

"Scarlacova?"

"Yes."

"Is your mother Annabelle Ginger Williams?"

"Obviously. But I fail to see why that matters."

"And your father's name is Jason Bryan Williams?"

Gianna grit her teeth. Her father abandoned her and her mother, leaving a nineteen-year-old pregnant young lady alone in New York right after they married. "Yeah, but I still fail to see why that matters."

"Your mother is settled in Gotham City?"

"Yes, and I am still completely failing to see why that matters!" Gianna growled, pissed off at this random guy who calls in the middle of the night, on her birthday, and brings up her birth father.

"Your mother, Mrs. Annabelle Williams, is hospitalized from a heart attack."

"My mother is forty years old and is very healthy, not in any condition for a heart attack. I don't know how you got my mother's, gather's, and _my _information, but I don't like practical jokes in the middle of the night on my birthday. Have a beautiful last day of 2010." Gianna slammed the phone down, not that it would do much good (being a cell phone) then started dialing her mother's number. It rang three times, then went to voicemail. Instead of hanging up, like she'd usually do, she left a quick message.

"Hey mom, it's me. I just got this crazy call from a complete stranger. He knew everything about us… including Jason. I'll talk to you later. Love you, mom."

She put Bandit back in his kennel, then went up to bed, trying to forget the experience.

Her mom didn't call that day, though she does on her every birthday. Instead, she called her mother at eight-thirty pm. But it wasn't her who picked up Gianna's mom's phone. Instead, it was that man who called her last night.

"Hello, this is Commissioner Gorden, lead detective of the GCPD, or the Gotham City Police Department. May I ask who is calling our patient?"

"My name is Gianna Scarlacova, and I apologize for last night. It was my birthday exactly when you called, and it was the middle of the night here."

"It's perfectly fine. I can see why you wouldn't, or couldn't, believe that your mother was hospitalized from a heart attack when she's only forty years of age. However, she was shocked by something she saw, causing her heart to stop for half a minute. She fell and hit the drain, which was why she was hospitalized."

"I still apologize. I would like to warn you, I'm flying out there tomorrow."

"Wouldn't it cost a lot?"

"Yes, but why should I worry the cost when my mother is hospitalized? I'll be there tomorrow."

"Okay. If you'd like, you could tell him that Jim Gorden sent you, and you might get a discount."

"Thank you."

Gianna hung up the phone, and started crying. She ran upstairs, and started throwing jeans, shirts, underwear, bras, a bathing suit, toothpaste, a toothbrush, a hairbrush, her glasses, and a box of daily contacts into the largest suitcase she had. In her laptop bag, she packed her laptop (of course), three notebooks, a whole box of mechanical pencils, all of Rick Riordan's books (except the 39 Clues one), and her hat she was knitting with a loom. She quickly cursed and pulled out her laptop, turned it on, and searched on Google. She typed in FLIGHTS TO GOTHAM CITY JANUARY FIRST. Fifty browsers pulled up, and she clicked on the first one. There was one flight that wasn't full, an overnight flight, which got to Gotham in the morning. It left at eleven-thirty that night.

After she booked the last seat on that plane, she shut off her computer and stuffed it back in the computer bag. She grabbed her IPhone 4, chargers for both her phone and computer, and a wireless mouse. She texted all her contacts besides her mom (three friends, her collage teachers, and a boss) that she was leaving tonight and that she didn't know when she'd be back. When her boss asked why, she replied that her mom was in the hospital.

She walked to the bus stop, a forty-minute walk, and asked the bus driver if he could stop at the airport, since there was surprisingly not a single person on the bus. He answered yes, and she thanked him the entire way there. Gianna rushed to the airport and went through the longest security line she could remember. She hastily had dinner at nine-thirty, and waited by gate B2 until it was time to go to Gotham. She knit her hat the entire time.

On the plane, Gianna couldn't go to sleep, so she read through the first two books of the Percy Jackson series and listened to music on her IPhone. When they touched down in Gotham at 4:27, she took a taxi to the Gotham City Hospital. She knew it would be closed, so she just checked into the nearest hotel. She was on the second floor, but she was tired. So she fell into her the bed, and was asleep before her head hit the pillow. She only slept for three and a half hours, and then dashed to the hospital.

When she burst in, she realized that running wasn't appropriate for a hospital lobby, so she walked quickly to the front desk.

"Hello, how may I help you?"

"I'm looking for Annabelle Williams. Is she here?"

The lady behind the desk checked her computer. She answered, "Yes, she's here, but visiting's off limits to everyone unrelated to her, except for the officers, of course."

"Then I can go. I'm her only relation that cares about her."

"Are you one of her sisters?"

"No, I'm-"

"Are you her husband?"

"What? No, I'm her-"

"Then you can't go."

"I'm her daughter, Gianna Bryan S- Williams."

"Why the 's'?"

"I prefer using her maiden name, Scarlacova. I can tell you everything about my mother. She has red curly hair, like me, she has light blue eyes, she has freckles, a light tan, and her middle name is Ginger. Her father's name was Jesse, and her sisters' names are Selena and Taylor. She was born and raised in New York, but moved here after Jason, her husband, went MIA. May I see my mother now?"

"She's in room 14C."

"Thanks." Gianna ran up the stairs to the C level, and looked for room fourteen. It was on the right and about in the middle. There were five bunks, with a sterile white curtain next to each to pull around the bed. There were no curtains wrapped around the bed, so her mother's red hair wasn't hard to find. There was a gray haired man sitting in a chair by her, asking soft, gentle questions.

As soon as Gianna saw her mother, she rushed towards her. "Mom! Are you okay? What happened?"

"That's what I've been asking, but she won't tell me why she fainted. I'm Jim, Jim Gorden."

"Gianna. We talked on the phone… remember?"

"Yeah. I just didn't think you'd look like that. I guess I imagined you as a younger Annabelle."

"Well, my mom's naturally tanner, with blue eyes and long hair. I like my hair shorter, and I guess I inherited a lot from my father." Her voice became bitter at the end.

"You don't like the fellow?"

"Never met him. Went MIA… driving my mom slightly over the edge."

"Gianna!" Annabelle cried out.

"Mom, you're going to be okay."

Jim stepped in. "Miss Scarlacova, I might need to talk to you in the hall." Plastering a blank look on her face, she nodded. As soon as they were out, Gorden started talking. "The doctor says she's got a rare poisoning in her blood. She was out there all night – it probably settled in then."

Gianna shook her head, blood draining out of her face. "No."

"I know it's hard to accept, but-"

"That's not it. I know where and when the disease settled in – New York, 1998. I was almost nine. She had a similar accident, except she was pushed by a stranger into another carrying a box of shards. It's a slow-acting metallic poison that's irremovable. There must've been a thin shard still stuck in her. It would've killed her anyway – but it was inactive. Something inside her brain must've been destroyed during the fall. Something that you can live without, like an appendix."

"There is little in your brain you can live without, and there are parts that you can live without but would make you inactive, mute, deaf, blind, and many more affects."

"Like keeping your head together."

"It's very rude to call your mother crazy."

"It's better to admit the truth than cover it up with a feeble lie. I need to know now, is there any way to save her?"

Gorden hesitated, then answered, "I don't know. I'm here to know what or who did this – and to find that person or thing."

"Hold on, there are people in Gotham City who kill people randomly?"

"Unfortunately, yes."

"I don't mean offense to you, but where is the police enforcement if someone can come in the middle of the night and knock over a middle-aged woman to kill – and if I'm informed correctly, outside the GCPD building?"

"The deaths have gotten fewer since Batman –"

"I don't give a rat's ass about Batman right now. I just want to know if there's a possible way to save my mom, and if there isn't, to investigate the crime scene, if there is one."

"Now, Miss Scarlacova, you probably aren't authorized –"

"Not authorized? How's your precious Batman, do you think _he's _authorized? You don't know who he is! I don't know! But I'll bet my lifesavings, no, the banks that the richest fat-ass in town owns, that he isn't authorized. And you don't think that a private investigator that pulls off the author in Trenton is authorized? That's what we call god-damn stupid."

"Private investigator? That is hard to believe, but," Gorden added quickly, as she started to open her mouth, "I'll take your word for it. I'd rather believe you're a lawyer, but private investigator fits too."

The man sitting further down the hall lowered his newspaper, revealing Bruce Wayne, the richest person in Gotham. As soon as Gianna sat down, he approached her.

"Hello, Miss Scarlacova."

"And you are?"

"This is Bruce Wayne, the richest person in town, and the person who found your mother – he is surprisingly generous," Jim whispered in her ear, before Bruce could answer, noticing how she was preparing for a fight. He also noticed how a slight scowl appeared on her face, quickly vanishing with an apology smile.

"I apologize, Mr. Wayne. Thank you for finding my poor mother." Her words were slightly mocking, but not enough for him to call to. She put an emphasis on _poor_, like he was supposed to notice that it was obvious she wasn't in the highest class of the American economy. She gave him a wry up-and-down look that she had previously perfected after scrapping enough money to go to college and become an investigator. She obviously never forgave the rich for being rich by probably luck. She could tell by the way he carried himself that he either won the lottery or that he inherited the money from his parents. Gianna figured that she worked a lot harder than this dumbass, and Gorden wasn't the only one to notice.

"She was previously in my name, so I paid for her medical bill in advance, with an extra donation. If you need another donation to hospitalize her for a longer period of time, I'd be glad to help." As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Wayne knew he had said the wrong thing. Gianna's eyes narrowed to thin slits and she crossed her arms, looking up at the said 'generous' rich guy who lives with a butler and fifty, sixty maids, she guessed.

Just as she opened her mouth to chew out Wayne, her mom cried out, "Gina!"

Quicker than a cheetah on steroids, she whipped around and practically ran to her mother's bedside.

Immediately, she saw the sickness was spreading throughout her body – bright blue streaks popped out on her face. "Gina, Gianna!" Annabelle screamed, her mind quickly degenerating.

"Mom, mom, I'm right here, I'm right here, okay? Okay, stay with me, please, stay with me."

"Why do you keep repeating what you're saying?" Annabelle inquired, smiling feebly. It was an old joke between them, from long ago in New York.

"Because I'm worried about you," Gianna answered, playing along. "Mom, why did you fall?"

With Annabelle's head swimming and pieces of memory slipping away, she instead answered, "I'm dying, Gina, and I can't stop it. Someone's stealing to the pieces of the puzzle! I can't stop them!"

"Mom, the only way to stop them from stealing the puzzle pieces is to tell me, why did you fall?"

Annabelle took a hard look at Gianna, trying to put together why she should answer. Because Gianna is her daughter. Because her daughter is worried about her. Because she is dying, and dying without anyone knowing why is bad. Very bad. And because he was a part of it. Because he was changed, too. "I fell?"

"Yes, in the gutter in front of the GCPD building. Why, though?"

Feeling herself slipping away, she quickly spit, "Because I saw him, I saw him."

Gianna's eyes hardened, but she didn't let herself get too angry. "Who, Jason?"

"Yes, Jason, the lost sweetheart, sweetheart. And he was different, very different. He was there, but he was different. He was on a poster. He had…" She trailed off, being distracted by the wind blowing the curtains. Gianna got up quickly, shut the curtains, then went back to her mom, not taking in the fact that she had tears in her eyes and that the two men had come in to hear the last thing her mom said.

"Mom, mom?"

"Where's mom? I've wanted to see mom for a while, I haven't seen her in years."

"No, not since she died of brain cancer."

"She died? Where, where did she die? Hey," Annabelle smiled, "you look like a mix between me and Jason, my boyfriend. I haven't seen him in a while, either. Did he die too? I hope not, I love him so, and –" she continued rambling on, forgetting who she was talking to. Gianna flicked a tear to the ground and slowly rose. Her heart aching, she turned around to see Bruce Wayne and Jim Gorden look at her, the stranger, the newcomer, with pity.

Bruce started to say, "I'm sorry," but he didn't get through the first syllable without getting pushed aside by a running Gianna, plowing through her way to the roof. They found her without difficulty, fearing she would commit suicide by jumping off the hospital building. She wouldn't do that – she just cried in the middle of the platform, dying on the inside. Gianna sat there all day. She accepted, food, water, a blanket, but she wouldn't accept company. She forced the lead investigator away, along with the richest guy, and she sat there. She soon went unnoticed by doctors, and stayed up there, not moving, not sleeping. The most she did was stop crying, and that was a challenge won only by dehydration. She had long run out of water, though her food was untouched.

Gianna was dozing when she heard a swoop and a shadow pass above her. She followed it with her eyes, guessing who it was. As soon as it landed, she murmured, "Who told you?"

A rough voice answered, "A friend who was there."

She looked behind her, seeing Batman perched on the edge of a nearby building. She looked carefully into his eyes, and found pity, mixed in with a little grief. Looking back to where she previously was staring, she whispered, "I don't want your pity."

"Neither did I, when my parents were… gone. But I got it anyway."

Gianna looked at him again, realizing that it's stupid to ask for grief when it's impossible not to give it. She knew that the deaths of the people closest to you changed you and made you either stronger or weaker, depending on your personality. With the man behind the mask, it was first one, than the other. First weakness, than strength. With her, first grief, then strength. She didn't accept nonsense before, and she won't now, either. "Nice to know a piece of the puzzle."

"Letting grief rule your life isn't the answer."

"I know. I'm not. But it's healthy to let it take over for half a day. I'm planning on taking it back when the hospital reopens and I can get off the top of this building."

"Fine." Batman strode next to her, then jumped off the building, gliding away towards the end of town.

_A/N: Please review and tell me what you think. I'm open to ideas and will accept REASONABLE critizims._

_-AC_


	2. Chapter 2: Haunting Dream

_A/N: Forgot to do this on my last author note, so here it is..._

_Disclaimer: I do not own Batman or any of the characters included in this story that you know are from Batman._

_-AC_

**Chapter Two**

Gianna snuck down to her mother's room as soon as the hospital accepted visitors. Her mom's long, curly red hair was disheveled, her sleep restless. Her blue eyes shifted constantly underneath her light lavender eyelids. Annabelle's breathing was fast, and her heartbeat slow. Gianna shed a few more tears that she didn't know she had, and left, grateful that the secretary was so ignorant – she didn't realize that visitors hadn't come yet.

Gianna went to her hotel and slept deeply. When she woke, she was in a meadow, grass waist-high, with it all in bloom with midnight blue, magenta, lavender, sunshine yellow, pitch black, and crimson. It was oddly shaped, like a path. There were trees of every sort, in a line that ended sharply, and reversed in a 90 degree angle, and went further than sight because of another line of trees. She walked down the way between the horizontal line, which acutely followed the original pattern of the first line. It was about two yards across, and continued down for about half a mile. The side on her left again ended acutely, but the side on her right, the original line, didn't. it went on for another five yards, than spanned the two yards, went up the five yards, and then went in a straight line two yards across from the line that ended acutely. She went down that passageway, and saw that it was the same on the opposite side. She realized that, if seen from above it would look like an A. Then suddenly she was high, high above the A, but seeing other letters next to it. The letters were to the right, spelling out ALONE FOREVER – Gianna was previously in the first letter. Suddenly, she was falling from the height, back down to the words.

The tall grass caught fire, but the trees were untouched. The words haunted her, burning them into her mind. Spiders rained from oppressing clouds above her, the clouds that were churning purple. The spiders were about a foot long and just as wide, and were black, furry monsters. They were landing on her, biting her, poisoning her with unknown poison. It was horrible, and she hated them, with their big, hairy blackness. After a long period of falling, she landed on a tiled obsidian floor, next to a black bed. She was in pain, but was curious of what was on the bed with a pitch black curtain around it. She pulled herself up, and saw her mom, dying still, thrashing and sweating nonstop. Annabelle suddenly reached out and snatched Gianna's collar, tugging Gianna closer to her, and whispered "Save me, my child."

"How?" Gianna inquired, desperate.

"Find out in the next hour," Annabelle told her.

"But I can't!"

"Then I'll die…" Annabelle trailed off, then came back, but as what Gianna imagined Jason to be – a shadow with a Marine suit, never there but always saying that it is. He finished, "… and I'll take your soul with me!" Gianna fell through a trapdoor, falling into shiny blackness, and saw Jason above her, the shadow figure dressed up like a Marine, which nodded once, then turned away as she fell into nothingness…

She fell out of her hotel bed and hit the floor, knocking her head on the nightstand on the way down. She now had a killer headache and an upset mind. She figured that she could sleep another night away, and took a Unisom: Natural Nights pill to go to sleep. Just as it was taking effect, her phone buzzed, still on vibrate from her time in the quiet hospital. She answered it, yawning, "Hello?"

"Gianna? It's Jim. You have to come to the hospital, now!"

Immediately, Gianna hung up and threw her coat on, ignoring the drowsiness of the sleep pill and rushing down the stairs, refusing to wait for the elevator. She tripped over her sockless sneakers, bursting into the hospital and running to the face of Officer Gorden. He led her up to her mom's hospital room, where her mom was thrashing nonstop. She was sweating and was very feverish; her mind was in a mad craze, and there were many nurses and doctors restraining her.

"Mom?"

Annabelle looked over toward Gianna, and murmured, "Alone forever," as she stopped thrashing. Gianna's eyes widened with fear, and she backed up, tripping over someone's foot and landing face-first onto the bright, white tiled floor. She looked up and saw the white bed with a snow-white curtain around it, and suddenly this became her dream, the only difference being the color. White for black. Her head swam, and Gianna saw Annabelle fall from the bed...

… and Gianna saw her hit her head…

… and Gianna saw it split…

… and Gianna saw blood come out.

Scrambling towards her, she held her mother's head in her hands, getting blood all over them. As she looked in the growing pool of blood on the floor, she saw a glint of something cold. She reached for it, and underneath the inch-deep, thick, gooey blood, she found the small shard, no longer than an inch, and blacker than obsidian. Blacker than the spiders, or the floor, or the bed, or the shadow man in a Marine suit in Gianna's dream. Blacker than the pit she fell into, and blacker than her mind was as it dimmed, knowing that not accepting the dream's offer prolonged her sleep, kept her from coming over to the hospital quickly, and killed her mom.

Bruce Wayne flipped her over and he looked blurry to her. He studied her, then slapped her face, saying, "Stay with me!" The slap caused her to blink frequently, than her eyes to dilate. Her vision cleared, and she saw blue eyes that carried sorrow, pity, hope, and determination. Blue eyes that looked all too familiar to her when she never looked Wayne directly in the eye. And it hit her; Bruce Wayne was Batman, and it made sense. Gianna's grief was half gone now – the other half was taken over by anger, fury, and determination, much like Wayne's.

She knew what she needed to do. She needed to find the person responsible. It was her new mission, and she'd have to report to her boss. But she would find the reason. Soon. Now. But she would need Wayne's help. Allowing herself to be helped up, she let the babble carry her away. She felt she heard the statement 'I'm sorry' too many times. She let the grief overwhelm her for a while, but when she was in danger of losing it, Wayne cleared his throat, or poked her, or something to keep her from falling into a haze.

Eventually, Bruce Wayne announced, "I think that Gianna here needs time to herself." As everyone realized that she did want to be alone, and that Wayne would know about it, the slowly drifted off.

Gorden and Wayne were the two left after about fifteen minutes. Gorden sighed, "Well, it's obvious that Bruce knows what he's talking about. I think that it would help if he gave you coping strategies…" he took a hard look at her tear-stained face and hangdog expression, then left. As soon as they saw his car pull away, Gianna's mouth tightened and her eyes narrowed.

"It was nice seeing you, Mr. Wayne, but since I don't know anything about Gotham history, I would like to know how your parents 'were… gone'. 'Kay?" She yawned, still tired from the sleep pill.

"Are you okay?" Bruce asked.

"Fine, tired is all. So how's it hanging, Bat –"

"Not here. How'd you find out?"

"Easy. I'm a s… private investigator, after all. You overheard me talking to the Commissioner. You should know."

"Why the 's'?"

"Exactly what the secretary said."

"Why?"

"Because of a secret that nobody should know. Just like your little Bat trick."

"Not here."

"Fine, take me to your castle, princess. I don't have a car, and you probably have seven. Maybe you can get your butler to drive the limo."

"I don't need Alfred to do everything for me."

"So you do have one. Nice. Fancy. Isn't he a bit expensive? Do you pay with gold?"

"No, he stays because he wants to."

"Is your cave involved?"

"Yes. No. I don't know. If you want to come, follow me." Wayne turned, then spun back around. "Everyone'll know about your mom. You'll need your sad look again." Gianna pulled it off, and started following Wayne. He took her to a red convertible with the top down.

"Yeah, this isn't going to get us noticed, Mr. Wayne."

"It's normal for me," he smiled, flashing white teeth. "Remember, you can't control your sadness." Gianna started sobbing into her hands, tears streaking down her face. "How can you summon tears at will?"

"Simple. Private investigator. Learned in drama. Had a recent death in my family… I think that I would be able to summon tears, especially if I'm holding them back." She somehow made it sound like she was mocking him while crying at the same time.

They then drove in silence to Wayne Manor, where Alfred, a balding, gray-haired man, treated Gianna like she was useless. At least, that's how she felt he treated her. He insisted on getting her a drink, opening doors for her, and following them around Wayne Manor.

"Well, where's your cave, Bats?"

Cautiously, Bruce turned, wary of her now. "Where did you hear that nickname?"

"Um… now, I think." Gianna yawned again, still sleepy from the natural night's pill.

"Only Joker and those in league with him call me 'Bats'."

"Really? So you think that I would pay that much money to book a last minute flight, abandoning my friends and family, and spend all that time at the hospital because I want to get at you for Joker?"

"Sir, she does have a point," Alfred supported.

"Okay. My cave's just around the corner."

As they turned, Gianna scoffed, "This is your Batcave? Really?" She had a point, too – what she thought was the cave was a small room with a piano in the middle of two bookshelves that reached the ceiling. Wayne played three keys on the piano, and the middle of one bookshelf slide down, a little taller than Wayne and a little wider than Alfred. Wayne and Alfred walked in, but Gianna hesitated. They had stopped, and she didn't know what was there. Eventually, she walked in, examining the hand rails, wondering why they were there. Suddenly, two metal doors closed in front of them, and Gianna realized what it was.

"How far does the elevator go down?"

"Far enough."

"How fast?" Suddenly, they zipped down, like they were in free-fall. Gianna grasped the handrail with both hands. She bent her head down against the wall and closed her eyes. She learned to focus only on scent, sight, and hearing when she was frightened. Listening hard, Gianna only heard smooth yet fast descent. She smelled the cologne of Bruce Wayne, and traces of oil underneath the musk. She didn't hear creaks or any sign of the elevator falling apart. What she did hear was Wayne laughing quietly. She let go of the handrail, embarrassed and enraged. But just as she did, they jolted to a stop, making Gianna snatch the rail.

Now Wayne was laughing louder, and even Alfred was smiling. "What?" she questioned defensively, her face red. "Experience drives fear." Wayne stopped laughing, now thoughtful, and Alfred's smile disappeared.

"Since when did you have an experience with dark elevators going down far and quick?"

"Falling, not dark elevators, Bats."

"I don't like it when you call me that."

"And I care why?"

Wayne stayed silent. Gianna stifled another yawn, very tired. "Did you stay up all night? It's only midday." Wayne inquired, care in his eyes. She shook her head, yawning again. "You have bags under your eyes."

"Nice to know, Sherlock," she retorted, yawning yet again. "Have you ever been tired after taking a sleeping pill, than getting a call from the Commissioner, than staying up all day? It'll wear off in another couple hours."

"I didn't know. I'm sorry."

"Whatever." Gianna paused, and yawned, "I get grouchy when I'm tired."

"Are you apologizing for the things you'll say?"

She snorted, "No. I'm telling you that I get grouchy and I don't hold back what I'm thinking when I'm tired. I love to use sarcasm a lot more, too."

"Miss Scarlacova, I believe that you use sarcasm a lot more than you need to anyway."

Wayne held back his laugh, and Gianna scowled. Yawning again, her eyes now drooping, she followed them to a large computer with seven screens. "Wow."

"Sarcasm?"

"What do you think?" she commented back scathingly.

"Not sarcasm."

"Good, you know how to discern sarcasm from sincerity. What's next, you learn to read?"

"You sound like the Riddler."

"Okay, sound fun."

"What?"

Gianna shook her head, her attention span and patience winding down to near to nothing.

"Gianna, there's a possibility you have the same blood as your mom. Do you mind if I take a sample to see how this metal would infect it?"

"What? Oh, uh, sure." Gianna stuck out her arm, not even wincing when he stuck the needle in.

"Didn't that hurt?"

"Um… sure."

Frowning at her, he stuck the blood sample into his computer and a square of the metal that infected Annabelle that he apparently had in store. Tired as she was, she focused all of her attention on seeing the process that the metal would do to both her and her mother. Nothing happened. "I'm confused. Isn't that supposed to tell us how she died?"

"Apparently, you have your father's blood." Gianna hung her head, cursing in a foreign language under her breath. "How do you know Italian?" Wayne asked.

Her eyes widened, and she told him, "It was my elective?"

"There's something you're not telling me."

"Give me one good reason why I should tell you."

"I'm Batman."

"And I don't give a rat's ass about Batman. Besides, it wouldn't do if I suddenly got beat up when I apparently did nothing except not tell him something. And," she continued, "I don't need a computer. All I need to know is exactly where her head was and how her body was laying. Then, I probably won't need you and I'll be out of your life."

"But what if you do?"

"Then I'll tell you."

"Okay. We'll go now, than."

"Sure. I just need my purse and my phone, which I left at the hotel."

"Okay. I'll drive you there, then back to the GCPD building."

"Great."

_Again, please review. It is my only hope for continuing this brilliant story._

_-AC_

_P.S. I have a feeling that this fanfic will be long. Just a heads up._


	3. Chapter 3: Villian Identities

_Sorry the update took a bit... though it wasn't that long. Hope you enjoy!_

_-AC_

**Chapter Three**

Gianna opened the secret pocket inside the bottom section of the red duffel she brought with her. Inside, there were loads of handguns, knives, grenades, and other high-tech gadgets. She took out a medium-sized knife, thin enough to slip between two ribs, two handguns, one a .15 Caliber, the other a Glock 37, and a black leather purse that swung from one shoulder to the opposite hip. She stuffed the Caliber, Glock, and knife into the leather purse, and grabbed a dart gun with poison darts that wouldn't kill, but would knock out the target for thirty hours, then keep them sick for three months with vomiting, migraines, and sweating.

She then put in a large white cloth, and included things like her iPod, mints, money, a phone, gum, a pad of paper, a pen, and a variety of makeup, though she was obviously a tomboy. Gianna ran outside in her leather jacket, leather purse, a blank green t-shirt, and jeans. She climbed into Wayne's bright red convertible, now with the top up, as it started to snow. Nobody could see her face, so she wasn't sobbing. She was trained not to express feelings when on a mission, no matter how tired, upset, or pissed she really was. And she was all three to the extreme.

"Leather's expensive, you know," Wayne commented.

"Ever heard of a garage sale, Mr. Wayne? And leather isn't nearly as expensive as silk, especially to be wearing around casually," Gianna snapped back, forgetting she was on a self-appointed mission for a second, pointing to his silk suit.

"Point taken."

They then drove in silence towards the GCPD building. As soon as they pulled up, Gianna jumped out, her face expressionless. She saw a grate, and assumed, that her mom landed somewhere around there. As she expected, Wayne got up and looked down at the grate. "Her head was here," he laid his hand on the third and fourth bar, and continued, "and she was lying towards the door of the GCPD building. Other than that, I can't help you."

Much to his surprise, she put herself exactly where her mother was when he found her. "Like this?" she inquired blankly.

He nodded mutely. She got up, keeping her feet in the same place. When she looked straight ahead, she came eye to eye with a wanted poster of a man with green hair, painted white skin, and bright green eyes… her eyes. The name at the bottom of the poster was listed as 'THE JOKER'.

"Okay. Couldn't find anything," Gianna lied, then glanced quickly over to the wanted posters. "But since I'm going to be searching for clues for a while, I want to know everything about the 'super criminals'."

"Sure, fire away."

She strode over to the car, pulled out her notepad and pen, and questioned, "Okay, who's 'The Mad Hatter'?"

"His real name is Jervis Tetch. He has blue eyes, red hair, and four foot eleven. He weighs one-hundred and fifteen pounds. He was obsessed with Alice in Wonderland from the time he was a young boy. He is an expert hypnotist, and he created the delusion that he was his favorite character, the Mad Hatter."

She took a minute to finish writing it down, then asked, "Clayface?"

"His real name is Basil Karlo. He has red eyes, no hair, is six foot five, and weighs two-hundred and sixty-five pounds. He was a horror film actor, but he went psycho when his movie was to be remade with a different actor as the lead role. The film's villain's name was Clayface, and he took on that guise. He killed several of the remake's cast before being stopped by Robin and I. Later, Karlo joined the 'Mud Pack', which was an alliance of villains that mutated themselves to become shape-changing. After his group was defeated, Karlo tricked the members and injected himself with the essence of many of the members, becoming a superhuman with the abilities to change shape, melt others into protoplasm, and mimic the powers of heroes of villains he copies."

Again, it took her a minute to write before questioning, "Two-Face?"

"His real name is Harvey Dent. He has blue eyes, half brown, half grey hair, is six foot, and weighs one-hundred and eighty-two pounds. He was a District Attorney that was one of my strongest allies until a criminal threw acid in his face, scarring him hideously. His psyche was fractured by the wounds, and he turned into a schizoid criminal mastermind. He was obsessed with duality, and he used his former good-luck charm, a trick silver dollar with a head on either side, to decide the fates of his victims. It was damaged on one side during the attack, Dent seized it as a reflection of his half-scarred visage."

Another minute went by as she wrote, then, "The Penguin?"

"His real name is Oswald Chesterfield Cobblepot, has blue eyes, brown hair, is five foot two, and weighs one-hundred and seventy-five pounds. He uses the Iceberg Lounge as a front for many illegal financial activities that get money for Gotham's underworld. Though he's short, he is a wily foe whose trick umbrellas often contain many deadly weapons and gadgets."

This time quicker, writing faster, then inquired, "The Scarecrow?"

"His real name is Jonathan Crane. He has blue eyes, brown hair, is six foot, and weights one-hundred and forty pounds. When he was a kid, he was taunted and bullied. He vowed to overcome his fears, and did this through the study psychology and biochemistry. He was kicked out his university because he tested on human subjects. Afterwards, he named himself Scarecrow and kept a tank of fear-inducing gas, which makes a person's deepest phobias become real in the minds of the victims."

Forty-five seconds went by like a breeze before Wayne heard, "Mr. Freeze?"

"His real name is Dr. Victor Fries. He has blue eyes, no hair, is six foot, and weighs one hundred and eighty pounds. He was a brilliant cryogenicist when his wife, Nora, was infected with a fatal degenerative disease. He put her in suspended animation to search for a way to cure her. However, the corporation that funded his research pulled the plug, causing an accident that transformed the doctor's body into a cold-blooded form that must always be kept below zero. If kept at normal room temperature, he would die. He has a number of freezing weapons, and wears a protective suit."

Becoming faster, she wrote for forty seconds before looking up, covering her eyes with her hand, and queried, "The Riddler?"

"His real name is Edward Nigma. He has blue eyes, brown hair, is six foot one inch, and weighs one-hundred and sixty-three pounds. He had an obsessive-compulsive need for attention, he is determined to be the most outlandish of the criminals I have to deal with. He concocts elaborate series of clues and riddles around his crimes."

Because she was writing so fast, she got a cramp in her hand. She shook it out, then, "Poison Ivy?"

"Her real name is Dr. Pamela Lillian Isley. She has green eyes, red hair, is five foot eight, and weighs one-hundred fifteen pounds. She was a botanist was transformed by a science experiment gone wrong into a plant-human hybrid. Instead of blood flowing through her veins, she has chlorophyll, and she developed a toxic touch. She has a pheromone-fueled talent for seduction. Over time, her crimes have become ecologically focused as she abandons her human side, identifying more with the natural world."

"Mr. Zsasz.?"

"His real name is Victor Zsasz. He has blue eyes, no hair, is five foot eight, and weighs one-hundred fifty pounds. He is a true sociopath, and he grew up in a life of ease. Body count is the only thing that matters to him. He takes pleasure in arranging the corpses of his victims in life-like poses before carving a mark into his own body."

"Killer Croc?" she yawned, still weary from the Unisom pill.

"His real name is Waylon Jones. He has yellow eyes, no hair, is eleven foot tall, and weighs five-hundred fifty pounds. He was born with a rare mutation that made his skin green and scaly, and that grew his body to grotesque proportions, he was raised by an alcoholic aunt and was bullied nonstop for his appearance. For a while, he worked as a freak for a carnival under that name, but is bestial nature and misanthropy grew. He was pushed to a life of crime, and he becomes increasingly detached from humanity."

"Harley Quinn?" Gianna's eyes slightly blurred as she fought the sleepiness.

"Her real name is Dr. Harleen Quinzel. She has blue eyes, blonde hair, is five foot seven, and weighs one-hundred and forty pounds. She was originally and Arkham Asylum psychiatrist who was assigned to treat the Joker, but instead became fixated on her patient, thinking herself in love with him. She assisted an escape confinement for him and took on the guise of Harley Quinn. She is violent and unpredictable who aims only to cause general mayhem and achieving Joker's approval. This makes her one of his victims, but a very dangerous one.

"And Joker?" she whispered, both because she was tired and because she wanted to know this one most.

"Nobody knows his real name. He has green eyes, green hair, is six foot, and weighs one-hundred and sixty pounds. We don't know much about him, except that he has an extremely chaotic nature. He has no superpowers, but he has incredible violence and is very good at creating mayhem. He's the self-styled Clown Prince of Crime."

"Thank you for helping me. Well, I think," she swayed slightly and ran her hand through her hair; "I need to get to bed." She wobbled to the passenger seat of the bright red car, and buckled herself in on the white leather seats. Wayne drove her to the hotel she was staying at, and she made her way up to the room. Before even taking off her shoes, she plopped on the bed and slept deeply, knowing that she would be able to catch Jason, or 'Joker', tomorrow.

Though she didn't know it, Wayne followed her in, taking off her shoes, her leather jacket, and her leather purse. It felt heavy for a normal purse, so he rummaged through it, finding the Caliber, the Glock, and the knife. He didn't know why she needed so much makeup though she wasn't wearing any. He knew it wasn't his business, but he looked in the drawers – nothing. He searched her red duffel and found the secret pocket. Wayne was confused why she would need so many weapons, and how she got it through security in the airport.

He zipped up her duffel and promptly left, driving home and getting a shiny black car to wait.

When Gianna woke up, she put in her earphones, turned on her iPod, set it one repeat, and started listening to Like My Mother Does by Lauren Alaina. She let the lyrics flow over her, barely stopping the tears from flowing also. After getting dressed in a dark purple tee, jeans, and her leather jacket, she noticed her purse was open.

_You have got to be kidding me._

Everything in her purse was disordered, and she was pissed. _He looked through my stuff! _She decided that she would have no more interaction with this idiot who let the idea go to his head about protecting Gotham. She decided that she could find the Joker on her own, she just had to do a little research and framing. As was her job, normally.

She pulled up Bing (she needed specifics – Google was only used when she was open to other ideas) and typed in 'Joker deaths'. Gianna ignored the Wikipedia – she needed hard facts from reliable sources. The next one down was from Gotham News, so she pulled up that browser. The headline read JOKER FOUND, BEING KEPT AT ARKHAM ASYLUM. She saw the pictures of the gruesome deaths, with their face painted, their throat slit, and a Joker card on all of them.

Of course, Gianna could never kill someone, but she would have to release a criminal who would… and her thoughts went to her notes. She looked at all of them, but the only one that seemed reasonable enough to ensure that both his and her way would get satisfied would be to hire the Penguin.

_Sorry the chapter was short, but I couldn't come up with anything else! I need help here!_

_-AC_


	4. Chapter 4: Framing

_Hi. I have some great ideas from SOMEONE who reviewed, and I"m very greatful for them. Writer's block doesn't usually happen to me... must be the nerves of actually writing for everyone._

_-AC_

**Chapter Four**

"So what you're saying is that you want someone killed, and rather than kill 'em yourself, you'd pay a high price for someone else to?"

"Are you trying to convince me _not_ to pay you to kill this man?"

"No, not at all. One fifty, we agreed?"

"I believe it was one twenty-five, and that was my final offer."

"Ah, but I'm doing the killin' aren't I?"

"One twenty-five."

"One fifty."

"One twenty-five."

"One fifty."

"One twenty-five."

"One fifty."

"One fifty."

"One twenty-five."

"One fifty!"

"One twenty-five!"

"One fifty and no less!"

"One twenty-five and no more!"

"Okay, fine, Mr. Cobblepot. One twenty-five it is."

"Eh? Hey, ya tricked me!"

"You said and I quote 'one twenty-five and no more', if I remember seven seconds ago," Gianna told him, a smirk on her face.

"Ya know what? I will do it for one twenty-five. Just because ya were able ta trick me. Not many people can manage that," the short yet stout man squinted, slightly scowling at her.

"If you can, leave it as clean as possible," Gianna instructed, handing him half the money.

"What's this?"

"Half now, half after the death."

"No, the full price now."

"I'm not falling for it, _Mr. Cobblepot_. You'd probably just take the money and run, not doing what I want."

"You're smart. But how do I know that you'll keep your money after I kill this person?"

"I keep my promises. Besides, if I don't want to be killed, I should give you the money. Right?"

"Right you are. A clean shot in the dark, you said?"

"Yes."

"What would happen if I personalized the dummy?"

"Someone would have their face broken."

"Is that an idle threat?"

"You tell me," she spun around, kneeing him in the nose after turning a complete turn.

"Eh! What did you do ta my bloody nose?"

"I made it bleed. I didn't break it – I still want you to kill this person."

"Fine, I'll kill this bloody person."

Gianna sighed in relief, quickly evacuating the Iceberg Lounge before anyone noticed she was there. Unfortunately for her, Wayne was still following her around, and she finally noticed it. Shaking her head, she started walking towards Wayne Manor, the owner of which crept silently behind her, not knowing that she knew who was behind the wheel.

Eventually, she turned and knocked on the window. "Hey princess! It's starting to storm and I don't want to walk all the way to your castle!"

He unlocked the car door, letting her slam it behind her before speeding off towards his mansion. "Why were you in the Iceberg Lounge?"

"I wanted a drink. Ever heard of it?"

"Why the Iceberg Lounge?"

"Sheesh, someone directed me to it."

"And did they inform you that the Iceberg Lounge didn't sell drinks?"

"Nope. That's why I shook my head – you saw it. You've been following me since you've searched through my purse."

"And your duffel. Why have all this? How'd you get it through airport security?"

"With my job, I don't have to go through security."

"What is your job?"

"Something."

"Obviously. What I want to know is the name of the job."

"Oh, Nunya Business Inc."

"Haha, very funny."

"For all you know, I could've taken a super oath or something binding me with my life to tell not a soul of where I work."

"Nobody does that."

"Whatever you say, princess. Now you can turn this car around and take me to my hotel."

"Not until you answer my questions."

"What questions could you possibly have?"

"Where do you live?"

"North New Jersey."

"What's your job?"

"I'm a student."

"But you said –"

"Technically, I don't have a job."

"But –"

"In the dictionary, a job is an activity such as a trade or profession that somebody does regularly for pay."

"And…"

"I don't have a trade or profession that I do regularly for pay."

"All you're succeeding in is confusing me."

"Okay. So you're going to take me to my hotel?"

"Nope, I'm taking you to my Manor."

"Hotel."

"Manor."

"Hotel."

"Manor."

"Hotel."

"Manor."

"Manor."

"Hotel."

"Manor."

"Hotel."

"Manor!"

"Hotel!"

"Wayne Manor and no place else!"

"The hotel and that's your final option!"

"Okay. We'll go to my hotel."

"Wait, what?"

"You said that my final option was the hotel."

"But –"

"You're not going to deny your own words, denying everything you told me previously or will tell me in the future, are you?"

"No."

"Then we're going to my hotel."

"Fine," Wayne sighed, making a U-turn and heading in the direction of the hospital.

As soon as Gianna got to her hotel, she turned on her laptop and signed up for an Arkham Asylum interview, saying she wanted to intern there. When she looked out the window into the parking lot, sure enough, Wayne was still there. Instead of him finding her leaving, she went to the farthest possible elevator, walked past the casino, and exited the door opposite the parking lot Wayne was sitting in. She walked to the main road, then hailed a taxi, using her New York whistle that she perfected a while ago.

"Take me to 573 Thirty-Seventh Street."

"Yes, ma'am."

As the taxi continued, it started snowing harder, making little _ping_ing sounds as it hit the windows. The snowdrift were already a foot tall in neighborhood. "Here's fine."

The taxi driver pulled over and read the little mileage money tracking thing. "That'll be twelve fifty-seven."

Gianna silently tossed the money into the front seat and got out, letting the taxi drive away. Walking over, she saw that Penguin already did his job. Looking him over quickly, there was no sign that Penguin posed him. She got rid of one of her boss's enemies and helped both her and Cobblepot. She heard a near silent crunch of someone stepping on snow, and she whipped around. Twelve yards behind her was Cobblepot, who jumped in surprise that she noticed him so early on.

Tucking the right side of her hair behind her ear, she approached him and handed him the other sixty-two dollars, as she gave him sixty-three beforehand. "Thank you. What was your name again?"

"I think my name is still the same – I haven't changed it."

"Yeah, well, I know that. What is your bloody name though?"

"Belle."

"Belle? You know, Belle, it's very stupid to tell someone your real name."

"I know. I think now is the time for you to leave, Mr. Cobblepot."

"And why would I? You seem to have a lot of cash in that nice little purse of yours."

"Funny, I don't recall me shooting you as part of the deal."

"No, I think the only one shooting here would be me. Ya don't even have a gun, Belle."

"Now I do." Gianna ran forward, kicked the gun out of Cobblepot's hand, landing a few feet away. Cobblepot tried to make a beeline for it, but Gianna yanked his legs out from under him, making him land face-first in the snow, and snatched up the gun. She calmly unloaded the bullets into the snow, knowing that by wearing gloves, she was safe from anybody knowing that she even touched the gun. She tossed it back to Cobblepot, who tried the gun, but it just clicked.

"What, did ya take out the bullets?"

"Yeah right. I shot them into the ground." Suddenly, the police started coming. Gianna sank to the ground, tears pouring down her face. Cobblepot looked at the gun, the bullet holes in the ground near Gianna, then the drops of water sliding down her face. He realized that she was wearing leather gloves, and the police saw what they saw. Cobblepot bolted, the police on his tail.

"What happened?" an officer questioned.

"Well," _sniff_, "I was coming," _sniff_, "to see an," _sniff_, "old friend of," _sniff, _"my mom's, and," _sniff_, "this guy comes," _sniff_, "out of nowhere and," _sniff_, "starts shooting at me!" Gianna cried, apparently trying to keep her emotions in check.

"Don't worry. We'll catch this person. Just keep on the lookout next time, okay?"

Gianna nodded, getting up and brushing herself off. As soon as the police officers were gone, she walked over to the dead man. She propped him up in a sitting position, then started to decorate him. She cut his cheeks to make him smile, put blood-red lipstick on his lips, decorated his eyelids with green eye shadow, and his entire face was covered with white eye shadow. She pinned a Joker card to his shirt, framing the Joker, who was still in Arkham Asylum.

_I think that most of you should know or guess what Gianna's profession is. If you do, please review! Hahaha, that rhymes... I probably won't be able to update that often. My stepdad just came into town, and since I hardly see him, I'll be hanging out with him. Sorry._

_-AC_


	5. Chapter 5: Interview

_Sorry, as I predicted, I was hanging with my stepdad. But inspiration struck in the middle of the night... during CRTs. It doesn't matter, you get your next chapter._

_-AC_

**Chapter Five**

"What?!" Joker squealed, staring at the mounted television. "Who's been doing my work?"

"Obviously, you. There's nothing that can make a Joker face as well as you…" Warden Sharp snapped, highly on edge. He took out a picture of a close-up of the victim's face.

Joker ran a critical eye over the face, and found no flaw in the regular clown get-up of the man. "There is one problem about this, Sharpie."

"What's that?"

"It wasn't nearly as rehearsed as my usual attire! And how would I," Joker drawled, "get out of my comfy cage? Why would I," Joker stretched out the 'I' for affect, "come back willingly, and just letting him sit there? That's nothing like me!"

"That's what we're wondering."

"Hey, boss!" Aaron Cash called out, jogging over to the warden. "Almost every psychiatrist has their resignation on your desk."

"What?"

"Yeah, they're all freaked about Joker able to get out and come back in so easily."

"But what if it wasn't me, Hook?"

"Shut up clown. We all know it was you."

"But we need psychiatrists for patient interviews and examinations, not to mention the cures! This will negatively affect my mayoral campaign!" Sharp muttered the last part.

"Well, we need more psychiatrists, right?" Sharp nodded an affirmative. "Well, we've got one girl, a Gianna, who wants to intern."

"Gianna…" Joker tasted the name, trying to remember something, though it didn't seem so to Cash.

"Yeah, that's her name, clown. Shut up."

"Call her, if you can, Cash. We need an intern. I will personally interview her later today, if possible."

"Yes, sir." Cash departed, entered his office, and sat down in front of his computer. He read the number she had left, and picked up the phone.

Gianna was listening to a playlist of Lauren Alaina and Christina Perri on her iPhone when it was interrupted by someone calling her. "Hello?"

"Hello, is this Gianna Scarlacova?"

"Yes. Who am I talking to?"

"Aaron Cash, a guard at Arkham Asylum. The warden wants to interview later today for the psychiatrist job you applied for." He sounded slightly nervous.

"Of course. I could come now, if he's available," Gianna offered, apparently kindly.

"Do you mind if I call you back?"

"I don't mind at all, Mr. Cash."

"Okay," Cash hung up and dashed to the warden's office. "Warden?"

"What? Oh, yes, come in."

"Gianna wants it to be the best convenience to you, so she's offered to come in now."

"Really? That's perfect. I'll expect her in half of an hour."

"Yes, sir."

Cash called Gianna back less than five minutes later, which she promptly answered. "He'll expect you in about half an hour."

"Thanks." She was hung up on, but she was fine with that. She immediately took the two guns and the knife out of her leather purse, keeping only pepper-spray, her gum, mints, notepad, pen, and unused make-up in there. She kept her wallet in her back pocket, having a feeling that the inmates she'd interview would jack her purse, so she felt it was better to feel safe rather than sorry.

She immediately went out, and saw that Wayne's car was no longer in the parking lot. She took the quickest route to the highway, allowing her leather jacket to be slightly open in the freezing cold. As Gianna waited for a taxi to come by, she felt someone's eyes on her. She looked across the street to see a young girl who was painfully thin and had grubbiness written all over her.

Gianna went into the mini-mart nearby, then crossed the street with a shopping bag in hand, over to where the young girl was. "What's your name?"

The girl looked around, then pointed herself, a confused look on her face. After Gianna nodded, she answered, "Olethea, ma'am."

"Olethea… it's a pretty name."

The girl blushed, then thanked, "Thank ye, ma'am."

"Do you know what it means?"

Olethea looked confused. "It means somethin'?"

"Yes, it does. In Latin, it meant 'truth'."

"So my name means truth?"

"Yes." Gianna smiled down at her. "Here," Gianna tossed Olethea a Ziploc bag of chopped apples. "you need this more than I do." Olethea started chowing down, but after the second piece, she became aware that Gianna was still watching her, carefully.

Olethea swallowed, then questioned, "Why are ya starin' at me?"

Gianna pointed towards a middle-aged man not a yard away, who was thinner than a stick. She watched as Olethea sighed, counted out three more for her, then present the other five in the bag for him. He looked amazed, then snatched it out of her hand, not even bothering to give a thanks. Gianna smiled proudly.

"You wanted the rest of that apple, huh?" Olethea nodded. "Is it just me, or is that a pile of wood with a hammer over there?" Gianna pointed behind them. Olethea nodded her head again. "But no nails…" Out of her shopping bag, there were nails, a box of them. She also pulled out painting kit, about twenty lemons, sugar, water, a pitcher, and tons of plastic cups. Her shopping bag was now empty.

Olethea's eyes lit up. "Are ya suggestin' that I make lemonade?"

"Until you can get on your feet." Olethea just stared at the materials, her eyes wide.

"Uh, ma'am, wha's yer name?"

"Belle."

"Why'd ya do this for me, Belle?"

"I know what it's like, living on the sidelines, watching as everyone passes by, not paying attention to the fact that you're starving. And those that do give an amount that wouldn't last a half-hour. I don't want that happening, especially not to another girl. How old are you, Olethea?"

"Thirteen, Belle. And, thanks again." Gianna nodded, then gave her best New York whistle, smiling when Olethea clapped her hands over her ears. Gianna slid in and waved good-bye to Olethea, letting her joy at seeing someone happy overtake the grief still within her.

"Where, to, ma'am?" the taxi driver inquired.

"Arkham Asylum."

The driver looked nervous. "Uh, are ya sure about that, ma'am? Cuz Joker's there and…"

"I'll give you twenty-five percent more if you get me there in less than ten minutes."

"Yes, ma'am." The taxi zipped off into the fog of the hard-falling snow. The snow made a pinging sound against the windshield. As soon as the door was in sight, Gianna paid him and got out, wishing she had a hood for her coat. The driver high-tailed it out of there like there was a plague.

Gianna walked in, and was surprised when a guard cut her off. "Sorry, we can't let any one pass."

She looked at the nametag, and smiled. "I'm Gianna Scarlacova, Mr. Cash."

Cash looked stunned. "Oh. I just… uh…"

"Thought I'd be older. That's why I signed up for the internship, not the actual job. Still a little too young."

"Right. Uh, just this way, Miss Scarlacova."

"Please, call me Gianna. 'Miss Scarlacova' is too up-tight for me."

"Same with 'Mr. Cash'. I would prefer it if you just called me Cash."

"Okay, Cash."

Cash walked her to Warden Sharp's office. He knocked on the door, and it swung outwards. "I'm here with Gianna."

Sharp looked just as shocked when he saw how young she was. "Uh, Guard Cash, you can leave us now." Cash nodded and walked out, starting rounds though he didn't need to. "Gianna, how old are you?"

"I am twenty-one."

"Okay. Why do you want to intern here at Arkham?"

"Well, I heard that it was here that was coming up with cures for the mentally ill, and I would like to be a part of that."

"And you're not afraid of the Joker?"

"Not at all, sir. Unless he makes an open threat on me or any part of my family, I'm not afraid of him."

"Why not?"

"I learned that experience drives fear, and fear is something I only experience when there's cause to."

"Very wise."

Gianna blushed slightly. "Thank you, Warden."

"Alright, you're hired."

She could tell that the Warden really should've given her a better interview, but he was desperate for psychiatrists. "You'll start today." They started walking towards Cell Block A. Just then, Joker passed by, surrounded by six guards and strapped to a chair.

"Ooo hoo, Sharpie! Did you get a new girlfriend?"

"I'm the new psychiatrist." Gianna answered for the Warden, turning her apparently curious eyes on him.

"Gianna, am I right?"

She raised an eyebrow, then inquired, "How did you –"

"I hear things, Gianna."

"Make complete sense. I just get here and haven't done a single patient interview and I'm known."

"Right you are. I have a sense of playing, ah, jokes on the psychiatrists. But I might not on you… you're much too pretty." As far as anyone could tell, her face remained impassive. But Joker could detect a slight narrowing of the eyes as she stared at him. He looked into her eyes, and somehow recognized her, from somewhere. "I think I know you…" Joker mumbled, trying to remember where he had seen those eyes.

"I don't think so. I'm new in town, so I hardly know the urban myths of this place, let alone know anyone."

"But I remember a pair of eyes! I always remember the eyes," he laughed manically, but kept his gaze locked on Gianna's emerald green eyes. They looked so familiar…

"Take him away!" Warden Sharp instructed, and he started going to the opposite side they were going to.

"Do I get to choose who I interview first?"

"I'm sorry Gianna, but we can't start you off with the Joker. The last time we did, she turned into Harley Quinn."

"I understand."

"However, if you manage to get through five patient interviews with Edward Nigma, or the Riddler, with little frustration, I will allow you to continue to the Joker."

"Okay. Thanks, Warden."

He nodded in reply, then instructed her way to her office. "Your first patient interview will commence in ten minutes."

"Yes, sir."

_It's a bit shorter than my usual, but oh well, deal with it. I'm really tired today - Reading CRTs and waking up in the middle of the night sure took a lot out of me. I like sleeping, so that's such a shocker._

_-AC_


	6. Chapter 6: First Day

**Chapter Six**

Someone, probably a guard, knocked on Gianna's office door. It was a small office, with a black computer chair in front of an oak desk and two uncomfortable-looking wooden chairs, which she planned to replace.

"Come in," she responded.

Guard Cash walked in with the Riddler in tow. "He's all yours. Start the tape. We're just outside if you need us." Cash slammed the door, leaving Edward Nigma standing just inside it.

She turned on the tape. "Patient interview number one, subject's name is Edward Nigma, AKA the Riddler. Please sit, Edward," Gianna instructed kindly, to which he followed immediately. On her desk was his file, and her purse was sitting next to her chair. "My name is Gianna Smith," she didn't quite trust him with her name, and she figured that, for safety reasons, she'd go by this. Plus, Joker wouldn't be able to recognize her last name.

"No 'Dr. Gianna Smith'?" Edward questioned critically. Gianna blushed shyly, deciding that if she pretended that she was shy it would be much easier not to talk about her past, especially to the one she was most interested in.

"I guess I'm not that conceded. I'm just an intern. But let's talk about you."

"I'd rather talk about you, first. I seem to find it easier to talk about my feelings when I can… trust them."

"Alright, if you insist. I grew up in New York with my mom. I never met my dad, and she moved here when I went to college in North New Jersey. She passed just recently, and since she was slightly over the edge all my life, I thought it would be good to see if I was able to cure anyone but my mom."

"How did your mother die?" he inquired with, as far as anyone else could tell, real interest. However, Gianna saw through him, and she wasn't going to fall for his tricks. She leaned to the side, and her peripheral vision told her that he was trying to get his foot around the strap to her purse.

Deciding to play along, she answered, "Brain cancer."

"How long ago?" he asked, still stalling.

"Not that long ago," she didn't want to talk about this, and he was irritating her to the bone. Suddenly she realized that was what he was trying to do – annoy her enough to let him go.

"I'm sure you know what I mean." Gianna rolled her eyes, and listened very carefully. She could hear the slight sliding sound of the leather purse across the tile floor.

"Of course I do. I also know that you're trying to stall me while you're taking my purse with your foot underneath the desk and that you're not really interested in what I have to say, just to keep me talking. And I assure you, there's nothing of gain in there – I keep my wallet in my pocket."

Nigma's eyes widened slightly, but snatched up the purse anyways. "But you are wrong. There is everything of gain in here. Your secrets – and I am interested in what you have to say… but yes, I was stalling you. I'm surprised. You managed to figure it out."

She laughed mirthlessly. "Please. There's a thing called acting, and seeing through acting. There's also peripheral vision, and hearing. Besides, my phone contains nothing but my three friends' first names, my college professors, and my boss, who I have listed as boss. I don't take any pictures, and I hardly text. You can see who I've called, but not what I've said."

He still rummaged through her purse, and she let him. "Makeup?" he questioned. "You don't seem to be the type who wears makeup."

"Doesn't mean I can't carry it around," she retorted in an emotionless tone. He looked up full of questions. He inspected a lipstick tube, then uncapped it.

"It's normal," he muttered as he inspected it.

"What else?" she snapped.

He put everything back and mutely handed her purse back to her. "Thank you, Edward." She opened her bottom drawer and dropped her purse in it, closing the drawer shut afterwards. "Now back to you." Gianna pulled out her notes and flipped them to Nigma's page.

"Okay. Why don't you tell me everything that you know about me?"

"That sounds fair. You have blue eyes, and brown hair, and you're six foot one inch."

"Tell me something that _isn't _obvious, Miss Smith."

"You weigh one-hundred and sixty-three pounds. You have an obsessive-compulsive need for attention, and is determined to be the most outlandish of the criminals that the so-called super-hero 'Batman' has to deal with. You concocts elaborate, brilliant, and sometimes sick series of clues and riddles around your crimes."

"You called Batman a 'so-called super-hero'. Why is that, Miss Smith?" Gianna winced at the name.

"Please, it's just Gianna. Dr. Smith – no. Miss Smith – no."

"If you like," Nigma allowed, "but you still haven't answered my question. Why did you call Batman a 'so-called super-hero'?" His voice was starting to get menacing, wanting an answer.

"What makes someone a super-hero? What makes someone a super-villain? Heroes are those who save lives, like police officers and fire fighters. Villains are enemies who commit crimes. Does the title 'super' come from the way they dress? How many they save or slay? How theatrical their savings/slayings are? How outlandish they act? How many goons they have, or if they work alone? The title 'super' added to either the word hero or villain is ridiculous in my eyes. This is why I call him 'so-called', because I don't know what makes him so… super."

Nigma raised his eyebrows, then a smile cracked his face. "So that's how you think. I agree with you, though you still consider him a hero."

"In a way."

"Riddle me this! Where does Batman get all of his gadgets? Wouldn't those cost a lot of money? Why does Commissioner Gorden trust him so? Because he gets the money from the banks that are already being robbed, he bribes Gorden, and he makes a living! Whoever this bastard is, he's as criminal as the rest of us, and insane, too! They lock me in an asylum because of my riddles, yet this psycho criminal gets permission to run around and beat up whoever's ass he wants! This is ridiculous!"

"Edward, you need to sit back down."

Just as he did, Cash opened the door. "His time's up." Gianna smiled, handed him the tape, and watched as Nigma walked out the door with the two guards at his back. Gianna sighed with relief and massaged her temples, realizing that this would be much harder than it seemed. Nigma was a pain in the ass, and she noticed that a headache was starting. She pulled Advil Liquid-Gels out of her purse and took two with a glass of water.

She didn't know what else was in the job description, so she went on the website, finding that she had to make a round, visiting all of the cells. Inwardly groaning, she walked to Cell Block D, which she figured she would start her rounds in. She knew that the Joker was in Cell Block A, and she just had to see him – the constant presence of him weighing down her mind was nearly unbearable. She needed to talk to him, but not reveal anything. Gianna had long since decided against that.

She walked around in CB D, taking notes and murmuring a few comforting words, which helped some and annoyed others. Gianna passed Poison Ivy's cell, examining the person inside with interest. Ivy sauntered up to the glass wall, seeing the new psychiatrist, and smirking.

"Let me out! I need to help my babies!" Ivy screeched.

"Who?" questioned Gianna, playing idiot.

"My babies! My poor, poor, plants are dying!"

Gianna's eyebrows scrunched together. "Where?" inquired she hurriedly, looking all around her.

"Behind you!" Ivy wailed. Gianna turned to see a flower pot with a wilting flower in it, which she began to water. "Not too much!" warned Ivy.

"Of course," answered Gianna, putting down the watering can. "Are you okay now?"

Ivy's lips twitched at the edge, giving a sort of smile. "Yes, I'm fine. Thank you."

Gianna continued to Cell Block C, again doing the same as in D. Her encounter with Two-Face was strange, though – he kept rambling about chance.

"The only thing fair in life is chance. It is the only thing fair!"

"I agree. Without chance, where would we be? Besides, not only is it fair, but it involves risk. Without risk, we would be emotionless figures, tight up in bubble wrap, hiding under our own roofs."

"Finally, someone who understands! They don't seem to get it! Chance is the only way to determine real life!" Gianna nodded, smiling. As soon as she turned, she rolled her eyes, annoyed. Chance, of all things, is what drove him crazy. She jot down a few notes, and continued her rounds.

In Cell Block B, she encountered the Riddler, but he was quiet as he watched her pass by. The most exciting thing in B was the encounter with Zsasz. "I must have the mark," he muttered, which irked her to the bone.

"Body count is everything to you, isn't it? Your work, although impressive, is frightening to most others," she reasoned, and he looked at her with wide eyes.

"I was wondering why they weren't congratulating me on how many marks I have! You are smart, Miss Smith."

Gianna smiled, then insisted, "Please, just Gianna. I don't like the stuffy 'miss', thank you very much."

Zsasz's mouth widened into a grotesque grin. Cash was behind her, and he cleared his throat to get her attention. "Why are you encouraging them, _Miss Smith_?"

Gianna started walking, with him following him. "Not encouraging them, per say, but applauding enough and giving them nudges towards the right direction, as I learned, is better than bluntly telling them what's right. Besides, if they want to get me and I used my real name, they would be able to find me ten seconds flat. 'Gianna' itself is an uncommon name, but 'Smith' is a common last name. I would rather give them misinformation than tell them the truth and be hunted."

"Smart. But what ya gonna do when they put the nameplate up?"

"I was going to go talk to the warden about that after my rounds. I would tell him similarly what I just told you."

"Sounds good."

Gianna gave a smile, then continued to Cell Block A, which she was eager and nervous about. She didn't want him to recognize her, but he _had_ looked her in the eye…

Distracted, she put few notes down and hardly talked. That is, until she saw the Joker. Putting her game face on, she slowed down, seemingly devoted to her work. She took her time, asking questions and providing answers, writing notes as needed. Joker watched her, not knowing why she was so familiar. She looked so involved in her work, until he saw her glance back at him with a cold gleam in her eye. It was only for a second, but it was enough. She had something against him. He wanted to find out what it was.

Gianna was almost there, and she glanced back at the Joker. _Bad idea_, she thought as she saw that he was watching. She gave a kindly smile to one of the patients next to Joker's cell, and he was muttering.

"What?" she questioned.

"I don't know who you are. Who are you?"

She laughed, and only Joker knew it sounded a bit strained. "I'm an intern. I started today. I think that I might be interviewing you – you seem a bit more interesting than the usual." Joker realized that she was a good actress – she wanted something and she was determined to get it. He admired her hardworking skill, but he needed to know why she was even here.

After she was done talking to the nearby inmate, Joker got the attention he wanted from her. "Hello, Joker," she greeted, a smile on her face. Gianna wanted to know everything she could squeeze out of him before telling him who she really was.

"Hello, Gianna. Or do you want me to call you 'Doctor'?" Joker giggled. Still with the smile, she evaluated him carefully. He had a manic grin on his face, and his green eyes were definitely what she inherited from him. Underneath the mad happiness, she could detect a slight… difference then what came with the usual 'super-criminals'.

Gianna laughed again. "Please, don't. I rather Gianna – anything like 'Dr. Gianna', 'Dr. Smith', or 'Miss Smith' is too stuffy for me. I guess I'm different than the others."

"You know what, I like you. You have that hardworking spirit, and are determined to get what you want."

"Do I?"

"Oh yes. You want what you want and you won't stop until you get it."

"Is that so?"

"Yep. And I'd be more than happy to help," he answered cheerfully. "Besides, I'm sure I recognize you. Something about the eyes…"

"Really?" Gianna kept that smile on her face, but Joker could tell it was being more and more forced the more time she spent time there.

"Yes indeedy! Come on, let loose. I can tell you're holding something back," he taunted.

Gianna's smile disappeared, leaving a nearly emotionless face. "There's a lot more than you think that I'm 'holding back', Joker. I don't want to play games, but if that's what I have to do, then I will."

"Oooo, feisty little girl. Come on; tell me where I've met you. Give me a hint to the mystery."

"One – mirror."

"Ah, that's not fair! Give me a better game!"

She pretended to think, then replied, "Nah. I don't want to. I gave you hint enough."

"But –"

"I'm going to get to interview you four days after today. You'll see me do my rounds until then. Speaking of, that's when I'll offer you my deal."

"Gianna Smith, it is?"

"Why not?"

"What?"

"I said, why not?"

"I heard you," he snapped, "what I meant was, 'why'd you say that?'"

"Again, I'll answer you later. I'd rather not now."

"Okay. I'll see you later!" he laughed, waving goofily at her while she continued her rounds. She passed Warden Sharp's office, then realized she needed a different nameplate for her doorway.

"Warden?" she called, knocking on the door.

"What? Oh yes, come in."

She walked in and started talking. "I would like a different nameplate then what my actual name is."

"Why?" he inquired, suspicious.

"I told all the inmates that my name was Gianna Smith. That way, if one of them escapes, I couldn't be targeted – 'Smith' is a pretty common last name."

The warden nodded, suspicion gone. "Okay. I can arrange that. Thank you for dropping by."

Gianna raised an eyebrow at the warden's behavior – he seemed on edge. "Are you okay? You seem a bit… jumpy."

"I'm fine. I just need a little time to figure out this Joker mess. Why would he break out without a sound, kill someone, decorate them, sneak back in, and all without an audience? I don't know what to make of this."

"Maybe it was one of his uncaught goons or something," Gianna suggested lightly. "Whatever it is, I'll be willing to bet it will blow over unless someone keeps mentioning it to others."

"You might be right, Gianna. I'll just try to push this out of my mind. You know, you are a good psychiatrist. You can help me, and I'm running the place."

"I always find it easier to applaud and suggest a slightly different idea. It usually works."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, if a criminal thinks it's okay to rob a bank, what I would do is flatter him on his good work, then nudge him in the right direction… slightly. It's a long process, but by the time he needs money, he'll just take out a loan."

"Smart. I really am happy you applied for the internship."

Gianna grinned. "You're not the only one." But she wasn't only thinking of herself. She knew that Joker was just as excited to meet her, and she had no idea why.


	7. Chapter 7: Luna

_Hey guys, sorry I haven't left a little author's note in a while. I haven't done this in a while, either:_

_I don't own Batman, Joker, or any other characters you recognize from this story._

_Anyway, hope you enjoy this story._

**Chapter Seven**

Gianna walked up to her hotel room at ten, and was surprised by Batman. _Great_, she thought, _I have to deal with someone else!_

"Where were you all day?" he questioned in a gravelly voice.

"Business," she answered carelessly, pushing past him to get to the door. He jumped in front of her.

"Where?" inquired he.

"Wow, stalker much? Seriously, it's my business, and none of yours."

"I don't trust you." He grabbed her by the arm, preventing her from pushing past him again. "So you need to tell me your business."

"Please, I'm not going to kill anyone. I'm not like that. The worst I could possibly do is hiring someone to kill another and decorate the victim up."

Batman's eyes widened, then narrowed. "Are you saying that _you_ are responsible for the Joker death?"

"What would I gain from offing a random person and decorating it up like the Joker would? Please, it sounds ridiculous." His grip tightened on her forearm, and she scowled. "Let go of me!" Gianna had enough today. She had to deal with psychopaths just to get closer to the Joker. She had to go through jokes, riddles, lies, and excuses to exact revenge for her mother's death. Now, she had to deal with this Halloween reject that happens to have gadgets and some martial art training.

"No. I want to know what's going on… now!" If looks could kill, Batman would be dead by the stare Gianna was throwing at him. She ripped her arm away and opened the door to the hotel room, shooting a merciless glance back towards him. He managed to get his foot between the door and the frame, and started pushing to keep it open. Gianna used one hand to keep it shut.

Gianna's watch started beeping. "What's that?"

"Nothing," she spat. But she looked at it, and he heard the entire conversation. "Not now, I'm in the middle of something."

"We need to know what your self-appointed mission is, G. It doesn't cut it to make excuses."  
"I'm not making excuses. There's one more freak I have to deal with, then I'll call you back. I swear."

"No, we need to talk now, G. Now." Gianna grimaced, then threw all of her weight against the door, slamming it shut. Batman had the sense to pull his foot out as soon as it became ten times harder to keep the door open.

"Fine," Gianna sighed. Batman attached a device to her door, so he could eavesdrop back at the cave. He grappled up to the roof, then glided towards his Batmobile, driving it back to the cave. He was there to hear part of the conversation.

"- and that's why I need to do it."

"We have a policy, G. We need to enforce it," a kind voice informed.

"I understand that we have a policy, L. I just need to do this. It won't take long – a month, maybe shorter."

"I'll give you five weeks to get back here and back on your original mission. Past that, I'll have to go with our rules."

Gianna sighed. "Okay. Five weeks should be enough. I can't thank you enough, Luna."

"Gina, I'm only doing this because you're my best friend and a huge asset to our corporation. But, again, I can only do so much. As soon as the deed is done, you need to come straight back. Otherwise, you're a fugitive."

"Yeah, yeah, I know the policy. 'If one ignores the rules or is too wrapped up in personal problems to follow the rules he or she is sentenced to death. Depending on the crime, the death could be painless or torturing, but the death must be there all the same. If one runs away from the sentence, he or she is a fugitive of the law.' I get it. Only five weeks, but that should be long enough. All I need is for the freak to get off my back, then I'll survive."

"Okay. L out."

Gianna ran a hand through her hair and plopped up against the pillows. She fell asleep still dressed and the lights on, but woke up when she felt strange. She opened her eyes and saw a black shadow above her. Her instincts kicked in, and Batman's mask flew across the room as she kicked him in the face.

She landed on the balls of her feet right next to the bed, standing over a certain man wearing black. "Hey Bats, private territory. No trespassing."

Wayne just groaned. She rolled her eyes, then warned, "Don't sneak up on me like that, Bats. I have trust issues."

"Who are you working for? I heard you and Luna talking –" was as far as Wayne got before being kicked in the face seven times in rapid succession.

"Business is business, but if you must know, I work for Nunya Business Inc. So leave me alone, now that you have that valuable info."

"Nice try. I want to know."

"I'll tell you what you need to know – you don't want to be persistent with me."

"She's right, Batman." Both Batman and Gianna looked around in surprise. Gianna looked down at her watch and saw Luna on the screen.

"Luna! What are you doing?"

"Warning him, like you were. I could tell you were on your last nerve. It's better to actually have a hero in a town, not a broken hero in town," Luna explained lightly. "She's in the highest rank in our business at the second level. If you decide to get on her nerves, you better be prepared to fight for your life."

"Really?" asked Wayne disbelievingly.

"Really," both Gianna and Luna answered at the same time.

"What rank are you, Luna?" he inquired.

"Same rank, first level. She's a ninja, and the lead of our entire operation," Gianna answered for her.

"What kind of operation kills you if you jeopardize it?" questioned Wayne.

"The kind that you don't need to know about, Bats. Now, if you didn't notice, we hold a pretty big bounty over your head," Gianna warned, holding his mask above his head.

"Look tough guy, it's over. You can't win here," Luna agreed.

He looked at both of them, then snatched the mask, slipped it on, and tried to leave the room. Gianna ripped the mask back off, preventing him from leaving – people could easily recognize the Batsuit, but without the mask, his secret was revealed. He attempted to push past her, but she stopped him. He threw a kick at her, and she stopped it with her hand. She twisted his ankle and threw him back.

"Tights? Really, Bats, you don't need to dress like a girl if you want to be one." Wayne's eyes narrowed and he tossed punches at her, which she easily blocked. On the seventh punch, she seemed to get bored and just caught his fist. She twisted his wrist so hard that he flipped along with it. "Get it? You're not going to win. Now, back off and leave me alone."

"Never," he growled. Gianna raised an eyebrow and went over to the other side of the room, apparently surrendering. Of course, that was wishful thinking on Wayne's part – she shot him with her dart gun, the dart within filled with a knock-out poison. She grabbed a pen, drew a mustache on him, and looked through his pockets. Soon, she found the Batmobile keys, which she tucked into her pocket.

She picked him up and walked over to his car. She drove it in the direction of the Manor until directions started veering her off the road. Eventually, she came to a waterfall, but the GPS told her to continue driving. She did so until she came to his cave, where she was before. She saw the elevator, but didn't go up it. Instead, she picked up a grappling hook, an entire bag of Batarangs, a Batclaw, and a container of explosive gel. When Alfred came down, Gianna was gone, the Batcave was looted, and Batman had a mustache drawn on his face.

_Sorry, this chapter was short... the first chapter was what, three thousand words? Goodness, I've been seriously decreasing my writing. I have a special shout out to a special two readers... if you're them, you should recognize this: TB and AB. If not, Ben 10. Again, only those people would know it. Inside joke. _

_-AC_


	8. Chapter 8: Joker's Patient Interview

_Hey guys. I guess I have the writing bug or something, because the ideas keep flowing. I know you're going to be confused during this chapter, or at least you should be. I plan to write a prequil to this story (really, a prequil to a fanfiction?) but it's going to be called Joker's Story. I've changed the name to this one to Joker's Daughter. Hope you don't mind._

_-AC_

**Chapter Eight**

Gianna went back to the asylum, excited and nervous. This was the day she finally got to interview Joker. She had dealt with Riddler for a long enough time. She was tired of him, and today was the day for the _real _beginning.

She opened her office door and looked at it. It was small, but it was nice… er. She added a picture of her mom on her desk, and replaced the uncomfortable chairs with two plush chairs, one blue, the other green. For her mom's eyes and for her own eyes. She put her bag on the floor as a kind of test for the Joker, and she started the recording, knowing that he was going to come in any minute. His interview was at two thirty, and it was two twenty-eight.

"Patient interview number six. The patient's name is the Joker. I have to admit, I am kind of excited and nervous to be meeting this 'super-criminal' who is famed for his unnerving and different ways of torture and murder." Someone knocked on the door, and Gianna glanced at the time on her computer: 2:30. "Come in."

"He's all yours. If you need help, we're right here. 'Kay?"

"Yes, thank you, Cash." He nodded response, then closed the door.

"Hello, Joker. My name is –"

"Gianna Smith, I know. You're the new intern here and blah blah blah. How do I know? Well, I hear things. I have an amazing sense of hearing."

"I noticed." She let a bit of her hate seep into the two words. "But I would rather talk about you, right now. Why do you kill people in bizarre ways?"

"Why don't you guess?"

"Do you want a true guess or what I would say normally?"

Joker giggled, then broke to a full out laugh. Through the laughter, he managed to say, "I like you. I really do. I think it's funny how we have a similar sense of humor." Gianna's eyes turned to steel. "Why not what you would say normally?"

"Maybe fame? Could it possibly be a way to show others how you think? Is it a twisted sense of humor?"

"Nice guesses, but that's what Harley guessed. Try again."

"That's all I've got."

"How about your true guess?"

"Not now. Later, maybe, but it's time for me to stop guessing and for you to start telling me your past."

"Oh, all right. I was born rich, but just as I was about to finish my final exam for high school, I got news that my parents had died. That was when I realized that I really didn't have a penny to my name and that I couldn't go to college. So I packed all of my stuff and started walking to where there was work. I walked along the train tracks until a train came past, and a jumped it, but was –"

"I've seen Water for Elephants, Joker."

"Who stars in it, then?"

"Robert Pattinson, but it doesn't matter. Your real past would be nice."

"Oh, I don't just _give_ out that information. I need more of a bribe."

"I didn't offer you any bribe."

Joker sighed. "Right, you haven't."

"Your real past?"

"You know, I like knowing the person before I tell them anything. And I'm sure I recognize your eyes from somewhere. I never forget the eyes, and I know I've seen yours before."

"I don't think that's possible." Gianna smiled phonily, but Joker saw through it.

"At least give me a hint!" he squealed.

Cash opened the door. He started moving Joker, but Joker wasn't budging. "A hint, Miss Smith."

"Fine." Gianna paused. "Mirror."

Joker frowned, trying to figure it out. "Mirror…" he muttered. He let himself be led away, and Gianna rubbed her temples. She took out two Advil and swallowed them, a headache already starting to form.

Joker was pacing back in forth in his cell, unable to figure out what her clue meant. "She apparently doesn't want me to figure this out," he mused. He was tempted to frown, but that would ruin his reputation for those in the cells around him. "Mirror…" he wondered. His first interview with a particularly interesting girl ended up with him knowing no more than before. A girl with a strangely familiar name, a strangely familiar pair of eyes, and, as far as he could tell, a secret to hide. _Which she hides well_, he thought, tapping on the bars to his cell.

When he looked out, he saw Gianna, again making her rounds. Smoothly, unlike her first visit, she strode to each and every cell, kindly speaking to each criminally insane person. Unlike the times before, where he wasn't paying attention, he listened to her tactic.

"That's a very impressive story, Justin, but many people would be even _more _impressed if you tried using a BB gun instead of a Desert Eagle."

"Why?" inquired Justin, curious.

"Because they'll like you better. And besides, it won't _kill_ the person, it'll just hurt them. So you won't be in here after they release you."

"Really? They'll like me better?"

"Oh yes, they will _definitely _like you better."

"Thank you, Gianna, for the suggestion!" squealed Justin. Joker shook his head, but couldn't help but admire how well Gianna's way of curing the criminally insane worked and how easy it was to use it.

He listened no more, just waited for her to come. When she did, she smiled. "Hello, Joker. How has your day been?"

"Oh, better now. I believe you have a positive effect on me."

"Do I really?" Gianna's eyes hardened, but her smile was still in place and she was in the same relaxed position, holding the pencil over the notepad.

"Yes, you do have a positive effect on me, I am sure of it. Ya know, maybe we could get together some time…" Joker was throwing a feeble shot at seductiveness, like he did with Harley, but he knew he had no shot at it. However, he got a response he didn't expect.

Gianna's back stiffened, and she glanced dangerously at Joker, with the smile still plastered to her face. "Joker, don't you have a girlfriend?"

"Yes, but she's not here right now…"

"I am twenty-one years old. You are forty-one years old. And I don't think that –"

"How do you know that I'm forty-one years old? Nobody knows exactly how old I am. Nobody. How did you figure it out?" growled Joker.

_Shit. I revealed too much_, thought Gianna. "Lucky guess?" she shot hopelessly.

Joker smiled, but it seemed more like he was baring his teeth. "I don't believe that. Once I'm out of this cage, I'll squeeze every detail you know about me, and how you know it. Maybe you're someone from before I moved to Gotham."

"I doubt it. The explosion happened when you were nineteen…" When Joker's eyes flashed, she mentally slapped herself. _If I keep slipping, he'll eventually guess. Damn it, stop slipping! _

"How do you know about the explosion?" snarled Joker, grabbing the bars to his cell.

"That I will keep to myself until later."

"No, I want to know, _now_."

She took a deep breath, then sighed, "You have it out for me, then, Joker?"

"I guess you could say that, Gianna. Where do I recognize your eyes?"

Gianna pointed at him, smirked, and replied, "Mirror."

"I get it involves a mirror! But how?"

"Figure it out. Or wait until tomorrow." Gianna had already booked a flight to leave at five-thirty the next night.

Again, Joker bared his teeth in an impression of a smile. "Okay, but you'll tell me everything you know about me, EVERY LAST DETAIL. Got it?"

Joker wanted to wipe that smirk off of her face, but she answered, "Got it." She moved to continue her rounds, and he stood there, quivering with anger, gripping the cell bars so hard it hurt. He stared after her, not knowing why or, more importantly, _how_ she knew about the explosion or his age. But he would know tomorrow. And that was what kept him from calling Harley from her place and blowing up the bars and what kept him from running after her and hurting her, badly.

_Sorry about the short chapter. Oh well, it doesn't matter. You got more to read, right? Good thing? I hope so. If I weren't the author, I would be like 'I have to read the next chapter, can't wait till the next one comes out.' I do that with a lot of my stories. I'm silly like that. Whatever._

_-AC_


	9. Chapter 9: Revealing Secrets

_I'm really happy with this chapter. It's almost as long as the first one! Not including A/N, it's 3,222 words (funny thing is it's true)! I already know that I'm going to do a prequil, plus I'm doing a TWO STORY SERIES to this one, a fanfiction, which I find weird. But whatever. And I forgot this (again) for a pretty long time..._

_I don't own Batman, Joker, or anyone else from DC comics. If I did, I would be pleasently rich._

_-AC_

**Chapter Nine **

Joker was pacing in his cell, frustrated out of his mind. He didn't know what to do, and this _girl_, this insignificant little _girl_, outsmarted him. Him! Joker, the almighty! The Clown Prince of Crime! And this person who called herself Gianna was going to pay. After he knew what she knew.

Joker's pacing got faster, and he thought back to the day of the explosion. He hadn't in years, but Gianna made him think about it.

-FLASHBACK STARTS-

Jason was marching with his troop to training. He was in the last row out of six and right in the middle. Pushups were the first thing, then cardio. When they were called to attention, a small piece of metal rolled in front of the Commanding Officer.

"Grenade!" he shouted, diving for cover. Jason was already on it, running in the opposite direction of the grenade. But whoever pulled the pin pulled it early, because, though he was farthest, he was thrown back by the explosion. It left a crater in the ground, and his entire troop was gone. He turned around in horror just as the explosion hit him, bleaching his tan skin. The entire front of his uniform was burned off, and what was left was on fire, burning everywhere.

Jason was bleeding profusely, and the medics found him unconscious and half-dead.

He woke up in a white bed, and he was surrounded by others. The nurses were staring at him and the doctors' faces were grim. "What happened?" he asked, but his voice was higher than usual.

"There was a grenade thrown at your troop. You were burned, and I guess something got into your vocal cords."

"Burned? How burned?"

The doctor held up a little black hand mirror, showing Jason his face. "Well, your skin was burned to the point of white. But you're lucky to be alive. You're the joker of the group."

"Joker, huh? What day is it?"

"April first," the doctor responded.

"So this is a prank or something? Because this isn't funny. At all."

"No, this is not an April Fools prank. Are you okay?" Jason grabbed the mirror and looked at his reflection. His skin was whiter than snow, and his green eyes stood out. They always stood out, anyway, but this looked creepy. Jason smiled, then started laughing. Laughing so hard, getting louder and louder until the doctors started backing away.

"Why so serious?" he asked, getting up from the hospital bed. Now the doctors and nurses were staring at him, fear in their eyes. They started backing away from him, and he advanced. They basically ran to the mess hall, and one of the female doctors grabbed a knife and pointed it at him. He smiled and advanced, dodging the small thrust that was given by her. He grabbed the knife and slit her throat. She was still alive, but bleeding to death.

He soon took out all of the medical staff, not keeping one alive. He went to the bathroom and stared in the mirror, drinking the image of himself in. He stuck the steak knife into his mouth, cutting his cheeks into a smile. It hurt too much to just smile all the time. He left, leaving to get green hair dye, a new outfit, and a large array of knives.

-END FLASHBACK-

Joker shook his head, trying to get rid of the memory. He didn't need to remember it; he just needed to know what Gianna thought was the real deal. And if it was, then someone wouldn't be alive.

Gianna was packing all her stuff, getting ready to leave. She checked out of the hotel and dropped her bag off at baggage claim. She calmly sat there until the duffel passed under the metal detector, making it go _beep beep beep_. Before they could check it, she flashed her badge, and they let it pass, checking a different bag instead to satisfy the public. They didn't find anything, so the staff just apologized and blamed the metal detector for malfunctioning, even shutting it off and starting it back up again to 'fix' it.

What she didn't know was that Batman was waiting on the other side, so he grabbed the bag and took it back to his place. As Bruce Wayne, he bribed the airport into not letting her pass, saying that she and him were going to take his private jet to New Jersey instead.

Gianna hailed a taxi and made the driver take her to the asylum, like she had for the past week. She was ready to basically end Joker's life, and, depending on how he took it, possibly not so basically. She nearly skipped to her office and put her purse on her desk. She would need the contents during the interview. She was searching the internet randomly for something to do, eventually landing on Google Images to look up funny quotes.

She was laughing to a painting of Albert Einstein under the words 'Be friend with stupid people, feel like genius all the time' when someone, probably Cash, knocked on her door. She closed the tab, pulled out her phone, put it to her ear, and called, "Come in!"

She made a show of saying good bye and ending the call before looking at who was there. Cash was with two other guards, and Joker, of course. "Who was that?" he wanted to know.

"Oh, just a friend. I was going to go visit later today, after my rounds," she answered, smiling.

"Okay, we'll be right outside if ya need us. And Warden wanted me to give you this." Cash handed her an envelope. She looked inside and then looked up, confused. "Today's payday for you – weekly for psychiatrists."

She nodded, closed the envelope, and stuck it in the drawer. She'd get it later. She moved to start the tape, but Joker stopped her. "No. I want to know what you know about me. Everything. I also want to know how you know."

"Okay, Jason."

"IT'S JOKER!"

"Is everything alright?" Cash yelled through the door, about to open it.

"Everything is fine, Guard Cash. There's nothing to be worried about," Gianna replied, raising her voice just a little bit so he could hear her. "You need to be quiet. I know everything there is to know about you, and it would be easier to explain it if you would be a bit quieter. Nobody's going to know. I haven't told anybody yet – otherwise, you'd have no reputation. You need that to survive in this city, right, Jason?"

"I don't want you to call me that!" he growled.

"Well, I want to. If you want to know everything that I know, or if you don't want me to call anybody and tell them before you attempt to kill me, then you'll let me."

"Fine. What do you know?"

"I know your real name is Jason Bryan Williams. I know that when you were nineteen, you deported to California from New York, New York to join the Marines. You had a fiancée, Annabelle Ginger Scarlacova, who you left there. She had purple and pink braces, blue eyes, and curly red hair. She loved your emerald green eyes. You had blonde hair and were naturally a little tan. You left in January and came back in March. She surprised you with an airport marriage, and you two were married. You had a little fun later that night, stayed the rest of the week, then went back.

"In the last week of March, you were doing your daily training routine when someone threw a grenade at your troop. You started running, heard the explosion, turned, and got blown feet back, and you were on fire. It bleached your skin and knocked you out. When you woke up, you were in the recovery room. They told you that you were a Joker and that it was April first. You lost your mind and started laughing.

"You chased the doctors and nurses to the mess hall, picked up a knife, and killed everyone in the room. You cut your cheeks to form a smile, went to the convenience store, and got yourself green hair dye and a purple suit."

"You know everything about me. How? How do I know you?"

"Well, you weren't so through with your second kill. Dr. Whenley sent a letter. This letter." Gianna pulled a yellowed envelope, but the paper inside smelled faintly like lemon and was in perfect condition. "This is the letter from him. In ink, it says, 'Dear Mrs. Annabelle, I am sorry to say that your husband, Jason, has been found MIA after the grenade attack. I apologize for sending this news, but I hope that he isn't what I think he is. Sincerely, Dr. Whenley.' However, he used lemon juice, as well.

"I found the words, 'He has lost his mind. Jason has murdered everyone in the room with a knife, and I hope that you find this. I have a feeling that you wouldn't like it if you found the lemon juice, but I need to tell someone before I die from blood loss.' I found them in between the lines."

"But how do you know the other stuff? Everything else? Where do I know you?"

"I've been in contact with Annabelle. And you haven't seen me until the very first day I came to Arkham Asylum. You've seen my mother, though, and my father."

"Who are they?"

"Well, you've known my father all your life. My mother you found when you moved to NY."

"Who are they?"

"When you were engaged to Annabelle, you and her were discussing what you would name your kids if you had any. If you had a boy, his name would be Bryan. But she couldn't figure out what would be a pretty name if you two had a girl. So you came up with a different name. If you took the first two letters of her middle name and the first four letters of her first, you would get a name that she thought was beautiful."

"Yeah, the name was –" Joker stopped and stared at Gianna, pieces finally clicking together. He swallowed, then continued, "The night Annabelle and I got married, you said she and I had 'fun'. Does that mean what I think it means?"

"I wasn't there. I mean, I was born on December 31, 1988, after all…" Joker's eyes widened. Gianna pulled out a small hand mirror with a black metal frame. "You know, I did give you a hint to where you've seen me before…" She held the mirror up right in front of her at eye level, letting him look at his reflection before lowering the mirror. He noticed the eyes in both the mirror and the girl were exactly the same, the only difference being the ones on the girl were cold and hateful.

"You are…"

"Yep, and I'm pretty sure that since I found out that I've hated you. You abandoned my mother a week after you two got married. So what if you looked different, she still would've loved you. She loved you until one week ago, if you must know."

"What happened?" He was staring at the tears gathering in the corners of her eyes.

"She saw the wanted poster of you. She was so shocked, surprised, that she fainted. She hit her head on the grate outside the GCPD building. Something in her head broke, and she fell out of the hospital bed and hit her head again, killing her. I was there. I saw it. You caused it. She is dead because of –" Gianna stopped. She took a few deep breaths, composed herself, and finished. "She is dead because of you. She was losing it as soon as she thought you were MIA. I kept her sane. She focused on me until I was able to reason, then she was nearly gone. And my life was consumed with her. I took care of her. I didn't have a long childhood. I blame you." Suddenly, her vision flickered. Black spots appeared in her vision, and she was sinking into the depths of her mind.

"Are you okay?" inquired Joker. He looked at her and saw something that he had seen in other prisoners. The look of falling into madness. And, with a burst of unknown inspiration, he slapped her across the face. Hard. But it did its job.

"What was that for?" she hissed, now even more angry at him.

He shrugged. "You were going insane. I don't want that for you."

"Why not?" she wondered.

"I – I don't know."

Cash opened the door. "Time to go, clown. Sessions over." Joker silently got up and walked over to him. Cash jostled him around, put handcuffs on him, and started walking out. And Joker said nothing. Didn't react at all. Cash looked in Joker's eyes and saw only an emotion he never knew Joker to have – regret and sadness.

"Um, Cash?"

"Yeah, Gianna?"

"Can you tell Warden Sharp that I would like a vacation?"

"Of course."

"Thanks."

Joker and Gianna locked eyes, and both of them knew that they were both changed. And nothing could change that.

Gianna decided to do her rounds before she got on her plane (not knowing that she wasn't going on it) and was really distracted. Every single inmate noticed this, but, instead of taking advantage of it, tried their hardest to make it easier on her. She was their favorite psychiatrist who seemed to actually care about them, and they liked her. They wanted her to stay.

She (finally) made it to Joker's cell, and they just stared at each other for a while. "I'm sorry about her, and for leaving her, and for everything, basically." Joker was the one who broke the silence. She stared at him, and he thought that she hadn't accepted. "I know that it would be hard to accept my apology, but I really am. And –"

"Stop," she interrupted. "I accept your apology. What else could I do? But I don't know… it would be really hard to _legally_ get you out of here." Joker brightened slightly at the suggestion. "I have a way, though. And I would need a good reason before five thirty, too."

Together, they discussed a plan. Gianna took him out of his cage, put handcuffs on him, and walked him to the warden's office.

"Warden Sharp?"

"Yes, come in."

Gianna brought Joker in, sat him down, and started talking before the warden could protest. "He said that he wanted to talk to you when I passed by doing my rounds."

"Is this true, Joker?"

"Yes." Joker looked at him with solemn eyes, which confused Sharp. "I just wanted to apologize for the things I've said."

The warden looked at him with wide eyes, shocked at such a dramatic turn from the Joker he knew. "Gianna, how did you cure him?"

"There is no 'curing', sir, just helping the sane side in the partially insane people come out."

"How, though?"

"Well, J – Joker cause more inspiration in me than the others at first, and I was devoted to his 'cure', as you call it. It usually would take a lot more than two days, but I found a… connection between me and the Joker."

"A connection?"

"Yes, a connection between me and the Joker. And it motivated me to apply for the job and hopefully see if I could tell him about our connection, thinking that it would assist his recovery, which it did."

"What kind of connection?" he questioned suspiciously, not trusting this complete change in Joker and some 'connection' that was very mysterious.

"Um, well, uh…" Gianna muttered to the floor, her cheeks very red.

"Well?"

"My, uh, mom may have known him before and uh…"

The warden's eyes cleared, now knowing what she was talking about. "Ah," was all he said. He looked at Joker, who was looking at Gianna, then back to Gianna, who was looking anywhere besides the warden and the Joker. "If you really are telling the truth, then what is his real name?"

"Jason Bryan Williams," Gianna answered immediately, like it was second nature to her.

"Joker?" When the previous Clown Prince of Crime nodded the affirmative, the warden continued, "Okay, so you do know that Gianna's real name is –"

"Gianna Bryan Scarlacova," Joker, or Jason, now, interrupted.

"Okay."

"Well, maybe we could –"

"No." Jason apparently had a habit of interrupting now, because he did it for the second time in a row – first to the warden, the second to Gianna. "I told you, no."

"But –"

"No."

"What are you two talking about?"

Gianna rocked on her heels, then answered, "Well, since Jason's cured, I was thinking maybe he could be… well, released?"

"No."

"Why don't you want to be released, Jo – Jason?"

"In the past twenty years, I have committed enough crimes for an entire town to have a life sentence. And, even if I were released, I wouldn't be able to live a life. I would be known for my crimes and it wouldn't be fair to everyone else to constantly know that they live next door to who used to be the Joker."

"But he wasn't himself for the past twenty years, and he knows better now."

"But I can still look back on everything I've done and know it's wrong."

"All the more reason – you know right from wrong."

"And everyone who lives next door to the evil Joker?"

"You're not evil."

"There have been murders in the city that have been blamed on me when I'm supposed to be locked away. I don't think the public will like me living next to them."

"You could build a house, somewhere away from the center of the city."

"How would I live? There is no grocery store that accepts ex-criminals."

"Well –"

"Stop arguing!" Sharp interrupted. "I've had enough of this bickering. Jason is in the clear, but he may do whatever he wishes with his life. I think that if you're cured, you're cured. And if you're cured, it would be public. And the public would want proof that you're cured, so they would come after you."

"Well, I'll do whatever. I have been horrible to everyone in the past and it doesn't matter what I do, I will still be hated. And rightfully so."

"We'll figure something out. This will be a great impact on my mayoral campaign. The curing of Joker!" The last two sentences were muttered softly, and it was simply amazing how much Sharp cared about his mayoral campaign. Gianna led Joker out and back to his cell.

When Joker was back in his cell and the cuffs were off, Gianna apologized, "Oh, and I'm sorry for that."

"For what?"

"Oh, just framing you for Penguin's work. I mean, it didn't take much – just a little makeup, a knife… yeah, that's about it."

"You framed me?"

"I didn't kill anybody, just decorated him. I needed this job, and the only way to be sure of my getting it would be to make the warden fairly desperate."

"But you framed me."

"Yeah. I'm sorry. I could've done Two-Face, but I can't change it now. Sorry."

_And Joker's good now. But it comes in handy because he has some skills that will be needed in the next story..._

_-AC_


	10. Chapter 10: New Jersey

_Hey guys. This chapter is a bit different because A) it has a little, repeat, LITTLE, bit of romance. Just a little. And, she decides something that's... surprising. I hope you remember a few chapters ago. Otherwise, well, you'll be confused._

_Oh, and this, too: I do not own any thing that you recognize. Well, you'd recognize Jason, Gianna, and Annabelle, plus a few other characters, but that doesn't matter. I don't own Joker or Wayne. Actually, Joker's gone. I don't own Wayne. Yep, that's about it._

_-AC_

**Chapter Ten**

Gianna walked into the airport, confused with herself and what just happened. She thought about it the entire taxi ride from the asylum to the Gotham City Airport. She already had her ticket and was waiting in the security line. She was lost in her own thoughts until they stopped her.

"Sorry ma'am, we can't let you pass."

"Excuse me, but why?"

"Your ticket has been sold to someone else."

"How?"

"Well, we received a visit from Bruce Wayne and he told us that he was going to fly you to New Jersey himself."

"I see. I apologize for forgetting that information. I just got distracted and thought that my plans were the same as before."

"It's quite alright."

Gianna nodded and started walking, immediately going towards the shiny black car right up front. She opened the door, slid in, buckled her seatbelt, and just sat there. She looked over to Wayne, who was surprised that she was able to tell which car was his. She raised her eyebrows at him, and he drove to his house.

"Where have you been? I've visited your hotel room the past few days, but you haven't been there."

"Of course not." Suddenly, her cell started ringing. She looked at the caller ID, the told Wayne, "Sorry, have to take this." She picked up the phone. "Hey Jason." Wayne could only hear Gianna's side of the conversation. "No, I'm not in the airport. Because princess somehow canceled me from my flight. I know. He's taking me to his castle right now. Okay, I'll meet you there." She ended the call, then turned back to Wayne.

"Who was that?"

"Jason, obviously. Oh, and you won't trust him, or me for that matter, after you meet him."

"I already don't trust you."

"You trust me not to tell everyone about your little secret, don't cha Bats?"

"I have to," he growled. He pulled up to the manor and saw a figure standing at his front door. Jason was wearing jeans, white sneakers, a green jacket, and wasn't facing them. His hair was once again blonde, and he whirled around when he heard the car door slam. Wayne instantly recognized him and ran up to him. He punched him in the face, the gut, and knocked him to the ground. Jason didn't block, fight back, or anything. Wayne pat Jason down and found only a cell phone, which he dropped, thinking it might be a bomb.

"What are you doing here? What is he doing here?" demanded Wayne, first to Jason, then to Gianna.

"He's doing nothing except lying on the ground because you knocked him down, if you didn't notice. If he wanted to get away or hurt you, he would've by now."

Wayne's eyes narrowed. "I don't –"

"Trust him, or me, I get it. He gets it. But he's changed, and I need you to see it."

"How has he changed?"

"Well –"

"I'll explain it," Jason interrupted Gianna, knowing that Batman wouldn't be expected to believe her if she explained and he just went along with it. She nodded, backed up a few feet, but stayed slightly in between the two if any fighting was to break out. "I – Well, when – I'll just start from the beginning." He bit his lip nervously, looking anywhere but Wayne. After over twenty years of completely being outside the box, he had his fill of originality. Which was original to him.

"When I was nineteen, I lived in New York. I joined the Marine Core while engaged to Annabelle." Wayne crossed his arms, eyes flicking from Jason to Gianna and back. "I went to California in January of 1988, and came back in the middle of March. Annabelle had spent the two months planning a surprise wedding for me. After the after party, she and I – I left at the end of the week. During a training session, a grenade was thrown at my troop. They called me the 'joker' of the group because I was the only one who survived. That's when I lost it. It was April first, so I thought it was clever.

"Skipping forward to now, or a week ago. I was being moved to a different cell, and I passed Gianna. I immediately recognized her eyes, so I thought that I've met her before. I could see through her acting, though she tried really hard. Eventually, she told me everything she knew about me, and how she knew it."

Wayne raised his eyebrows, disbelieving. "Do you actually believe him?"

Gianna copied his move. "I guess it's time to tell my side. When I was little, I was interested in spy stuff and ninja skills rather than Barbies and pink. So I got a hold of old letters that my mom kept, which included a letter from one of the doctors at the California Marine area. I was going through, shining a light on every single one. I found lemon juice on this one, and it was amazing to me. Until, that is, I read it." She presented the letter to Wayne, and he read it and the lemon juice words.

She continued with, "When I looked at the old wanted posters, I saw Joker's. I have similar eyes, so I recognized them instantly. It's hard to miss your own eyes. As for asking for all of the 'super-criminal' records, that was simply to mislead you. I then got an internship at Arkham, where I passed Jason. After five days of dealing with interviewing Nigma, I got to interview him. I got my check today, and I _was_ planning on going back home to sell my house and quit my job, which I must do in person – you know why." Gianna pointed at Wayne's chest.

"What did you tell him that you didn't tell me?"

"I didn't _tell_ him anything. _He _eavesdropped on me. And obviously, it's something so _private_ that I won't tell you." Although it seemed she was talking to Jason, she held a piercing gaze on Wayne.

"Did you tell Annabelle?"

Her face went from pissed to sad. "No, I didn't."

"I'm sorry, Gianna," Wayne patted her shoulder twice. "I'll take you to New Jersey. Okay?" She gave him a sideways glance, then nodded and huffed off. "What's her problem with me? She's never liked me."

"Not surprising. She grew up in a life of poverty, and she can tell when someone earns their money or just inherits it or wins the lottery. She especially hates it when people use their money as power."

"Like bribing people," Gianna agreed, smirking when they jumped. They stared at her amazed that she had popped up behind her. "Go on, princess, let's fly to _my_ castle."

Jason suppressed a smile, but it disappeared when Wayne growled, "Don't try to hide it. It's not like you're not smiling all the time." Before Jason could react more than dropping his smile, Gianna's eyes flared and she smacked him in the head hard enough for him to recoil.

"I have to babysit two grown men, now? Really, guys, you need to get over your hate for each other or you will both be hurt." Both men stared at her, then started laughing. It was ended quickly when she kicked them in the head. "I could beat you in hand to hand combat, even if you two were working together."

"Is that a challenge?" questioned Jason.

"No, I'm just insulting you by simply saying that I could without proving it. Of course it's a challenge!"

"Okay, we'll take it easy on you," Wayne accepted.

_Male pride ruins the boys_, she thought. Immediately, Wayne rushed her, but Gianna just stood there until the last possible second. She sidestepped and waited for him to pass through where she just was, then she grabbed hold of his hair, making him fall backwards at the speed he was going. Jason bear hugged her from behind, to which she stepped on his toes. When that didn't work, she looked back and elbowed him in the face. Wayne swore and came at her, but she ended that with a strong kick to where boys value most. When she turned to face Jason, he held up his hand in surrender.

She laughed and helped Wayne up, enjoying a little practice for the first time since she came to Gotham. He chartered his jet and flew her to New Jersey. She showed them her house, a simple but nice two story. She picked up her puppy, who was excited to see both her and new people. She sold her house to an old couple, who wanted her house since they came to town. That day, she went to her business. She glanced at Wayne when they approached only to smile at his reaction.

They pulled up the Nunya Business Incorporation, where she entered through the back door after telling the men to stay. They followed anyway. She had brought her duffel full of weapons and high-tech gadgets. She went through a long, narrow hallway with a plush, three-inch thick black carpet and dark grey walls. It seemed oppressing.

She walked through a light grey door with a silver handle and was addressed by Luna. "Gianna, you're here already!" They had a little reunion party, to which Jason smiled to, but they were back to business. "I trust you're ready to deport to Japan."

"Actually, I'm not going to be."

"Why not?" she demanded.

"I have decided that it is in my best wishes to retire from NBI."

"Okay."

"Really? No protests, no banning me from doing this? What's going on?"

"I have been thinking a similar thing. Except for one thing you didn't mention."

"That _we_ have decided that it is in _our _best wishes for _us _to retire."

Gianna gasped, her eyes wide. "I've already sold my house here, and I planned to move to –"

"Gotham City, I know. I know you. After you release your anger and the other person you're angry at apologizes, you form a bond. That's what happened with almost all of your friends."

"Not you," Gianna pointed out. "But we're like soul sisters."

"Yep, we know each other better then we know ourselves."

They both smiled, then hugged fiercely. "But you know what?"

"What?"

"I've already bought two houses, right next to each other. We could be roommates, and Jason could live in the one next to it. And yes, it's on the edge of the city. And they're stocked with _our_ stuff, which –"

"– means that I have to tell him."

"You haven't already?" Gianna shook her head. "You do know that they've been eavesdropping on us, right?"

"Of course. They are so predictable – I tell them to stay, they come. And besides, it's kind of hard not to hear whispering through a door."

"Come in." Jason opened the door and walked in, followed by Wayne. "I – no, Gianna has something to tell you, Jason, but something that you have probably already guessed." Wayne nodded, and Jason just looked confused.

"I'm a professional spy. Did you notice that 'NBI' is remarkably close to 'FBI'?" Both shook their heads. "That also means we can fix nearly anything with our under-used upgraded technology." Jason brightened at the possibility of his face being normal. "But you'll always be pale. We might be able to tan your skin lightly, but not that much."

"Something is better than nothing."

Luna whispered something in Gianna's ear, and she scowled playfully. Gianna then poked Luna in the stomach, to which she hissed, and then they both laughed. "Hey, what about Amos? He's cute, isn't he?" mocked Gianna. Luna tensed up her jaw and stared at Gianna. "Wait a second. This is my last day on the job." Amos passed by the open door. "Hey Amos, wait up!"

"No!" Luna cried. Gianna jogged up to the still strawberry-blonde.

"You know, everyone knows you like Luna. Why don't you just admit it and take her on a date? She wouldn't say no, by the way. I'm positive she would be absolutely thrilled."

Amos glanced at Luna, who was paralyzed staring at him. He hadn't seen her stop what she was doing on any mission and stayed on course, never faltering. That is, until now, when she stared at him. "Okay." Amos walked up to Luna and questioned, "Is what Gianna says true?" When Luna shyly nodded an affirmative, he cheered. "Okay, then, will you mind if I take you to The Blue Bayou?"

"Yes… I-I mean no… I mean, uh, sure, I'll go with you to the Blue Bayou." Gianna was suppressing laughter until Luna smirked. "Hey Micheal," she called. Gianna's face dropped, her eyes widening.

"Yes, Luna?"

"Did you know that Gianna likes you?"

"Yeah." Gianna blinked in surprise at the answer. "That is, after Blain went and told me that you did after looting your office while you were gone." Blain just happened to be passing by and heard this, and he started running as soon as Gianna's gaze was set on him. They all felt like they were in middle school, but it was fun. A little play during a work day wasn't unusual for them.

Micheal stopped Gianna as she passed him. She could have easily kept going if she wanted to, but she didn't. She let Micheal stop her, and waited patiently for what he had to say. He stood there for a while, and she felt like his piercing gaze was looking deep into her soul through her eyes. Eventually, he guessed, "You're leaving today, you and Luna. That's why the both of you are acting strangely spontaneous." Gianna nodded.

She didn't know what would happen. All of a sudden he leaned forward, kissing her cheek softly. She turned redder than a tomato, and backed away shyly. Then she realized that it was Blain's input that caused this to happen. She turned, looked him straight in the eye, and told him, "I'm not going to kill you anymore." This caused everyone to burst out in laughter, including Jason and Wayne. After nearly five minutes of everyone gasping for breath, wiping away tears, and clutching their sides, the laughter subsided.

Gianna imagined that she could have a family. But she wasn't ready for that, yet. She didn't want to make the same mistake like her parents did, and besides, the guy she liked didn't like her back, as she thought. It was then she realized something. It was then where she decided that she was going to have a child, and more importantly, a daughter. She was going to adopt Olethea.

_I _know _you weren't expecting that. I know, different, but it's not a full on love scene. No, no, not for me. It's only rated T because of the entire idea that Gianna actually does kill and pays others to kill and is/was reletively merciless. _

_-AC_


	11. Chapter 11: Houses

_I know this is a really short chapter. I think that you'll enjoy it. Only 800 words! Sorry._

_I don't own Wayne. That's all that's in this story that I don't own, and Gotham. _

_-AC_

**Chapter Eleven**

Gianna walked up to Olethea's lemonade stand and bought a cup. She slid two quarters over the counter, and moved to the side of the stand. Though it was winter, she had people buying her lemonade all day. "Thanks ta you, I've been feelin' full."

"Well, I hope so. I just have one thing to tell you."

"Yeah, Belle?"

"My name isn't Belle. I had a very important job where I couldn't tell anyone my name, and so I told you the last part of my mom's name. My name is Gianna."

"That's even prettier." She smiled.

"Do you know what? You don't have to work at this lemonade stand unless you want to during summer."

"Why'd ya say that?"

"Because I've decided to adopt you." Olethea's eyes went wide as she stared at Gianna, and she dropped the empty cup she was about to fill for the stand. Recovering quickly, she picked up the cup, filled it, and counted how many were left in line.

"Can ya go ta the end o da line with a closed sign?"

"Of course." She picked up the closed sign and retreated to behind the next four people. After the last people enjoyed her lemonade and thanked her, Olethea stuffed the rest of the sugar, the lemons, a now empty pitcher, and her lunch in two plastic bags. There were two cups of lemonade left, and Gianna slid two more quarters over the counter as she grabbed one of the last two. "You know, you're really good at making lemonade."

"Thanks."

"But there are a few questions I have to ask you."

"Like?"

"Like… can you read, write, count…?"

"Of course. I'm actually faking the 'can't use grammar'," she answered, now in a perfectly normal voice. "So I guess we _both_ were lying to everyone." Gianna laughed.

"Let's go clean you up and get you dressed, then we can do the paperwork," Gianna groaned at the last word.

"You don't like paperwork?"

"Not really."

"Understandable." They both laughed.

"And, I'm going to have a roommate. Her name is Luna."

"Her _real_ name?"

Gianna laughed again. "Same thing." Suddenly, Bruce Wayne was in front of them.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Mr. Wayne," Olethea apologized after she bumped into him. Wayne smiled.

"It was my fault," he answered.

"But –"

"It was his fault, he said so. Now, princess, continue to your castle so we can to ours."

He looked at the both of them. "Wait, you have a daughter? No, there's not enough kindness in you."

"Just because you're an ignorant brat doesn't mean that I don't have what I don't show you, princess. Now you can go the castle and boss around butlers and maids and whatever rich idiots do, okay?"

He gave a half-smile, then turned away towards the red convertible. He pulled up to them, and then called, "Get in!"

Immediately, Olethea looked towards Gianna, who smiled, nodded, and leaned down to tell the thirteen-year-old something, which was, "It was a test from Wayne and me."

"Oh. Did I pass?" Gianna laughed, then nodded. Olethea jumped into the backseat of the car, and her adoptive mother followed her. Wayne pushed a button, and the roof retracted back. Olethea looked up into the pale sky, and it started snowing slightly, swirling around her already wet light brown hair and falling onto her cinnamon-colored skin. Her hazel eyes reflected the white flakes in apparent wonder. She smiled, and looked ahead.

They were dropped off at the house that Luna bought for the three of them, and Jason's was right next to it, looking very similar, the only difference being that the girls would live in the house with the purple trim, whereas Jason would stay in the house with the green trim.

"I think it's time for you to meet Jason."

"Who's Jason?"

"Me." Jason walked out of the house with his skin more normal-ish and an unscarred face. However, Olethea recognized him immediately, and Gianna expected that.

She leaned down and whispered, "I cured him. That's why he doesn't have the scars and the green hair." Olethea nodded, but still regarded him warily.

"Now it's time for you to meet Luna," Gianna suggested, breaking the tense silence.

"Is she Harley Quinn?" Gianna suppressed her smile, and shook her head. "Okay, let's go meet her." They walked into the house with the purple trim, and were greeted by Luna. "Are you my aunt? You also have red hair…"

"In a way. She is my best friend and we have been since we were twelve," Gianna answered for Luna. "We have many similar interests."

"Such as?"

"Such as spy stuff."

"And…?"

"And that's what we have." Gianna walked over to the counter, pulled out a small black rectangle and put it in the microwave. After two minutes, it beeped, and Gianna pulled out a cheeseburger with tomato, onion, lettuce, and fries on the side. Olethea just stood, her bottom jaw nearly touching the floor and her eyes wide. Gianna proffered the plate, and Olethea took it. She picked up a fry and stuck in her mouth.

"This is really good." Gianna nodded, smiling.

_Don't stop reading this story, there's an epilogue for the next story (really AlaskaChic, you have to make a prequil and a second story for one FANFICTION work?). Sorry again._

_-AC_


	12. Epilogue

_I hope you enjoy the ending. I like how he forgets that it was Batman who solved everything, but whatever. Enjoy the less than seven-hundred words. Horrible._

_I don't own Batman, Nora Fries, or Victor Fries._

_-AC_

**Epilogue **

Mr. Freeze was working with different chemicals. He mixed one with another, then used a dropper to put one drop into a vial of blood, then examined the blood carefully. The blood cells died from the degenerative disease anyway, despite the chemical.

Suddenly, something burst through the door of his workshop, burying itself in the floor directly in front of him. Freeze saw the Bat symbol on it, so he lightly touched it, to which it opened. Inside there were two items – a small square of black metal and a note. The note read:

_Victor,_

_Figured you could use this. Not sure what type of metal it is, but is poisonous to all but O negative blood, to which it cures most ailments. Hope it works on Nora._

_-B_

Freeze took the square, walked over to his work table, and melted the black metal down. He cleaned out the dropper and dipped it in the black liquid, sucking three drops out of the beaker. His last vial of blood was crucial to his experiments. He carefully let one drop fall, then he brought the microscope over to the vial. Nothing seemed to happen for a few moments, and just as he was about to give up looking for something, a blood cell healed.

Faster than a plague, all of the blood cells healed, destroying the degenerative disease and the blood was near-perfect. A small smile cracked his usually unemotional face, and he took the rest of the melted metal and put it into another vial, only with a long, silver needle sticking out of the bottom.

He destroyed the ice around her left shoulder, disinfected the small area, and injected it into her bloodstream. With his back turned, the vial of blood that was healed turned lighter, ending at a light blue. But the metal was already injected into the blood of Freeze's beloved wife, so he could do nothing as her skin turned a light blue, somehow deeper than his own yet still a light blue.

She broke free of the ice, her beautiful blonde hair now a black ice color, and her eyes transformed from blue to a clear color. "Victor, what happened to me?" she questioned, confused as she examined her appearance.

Freeze looked back to the vial of healed blood to find the light blue, almost white, blood in its place. "Apparently the metal makes the owner adapt to extreme conditions, which I believe happened to you. I apologize for causing this."

"No, no. I feel… better. I am alive, and I feel… powerful." She raised her hand to hug her husband, and blasted him with a torrent of ice water. He fell back, and Nora ran over to him. "Oh, Victor, are you okay?"

"I'm fine. But you have freezing powers without my machines, therefore rendering you powerful and able to defend yourself."

"And I cannot get sick. Do you have a… name? For your identity to Batman, I mean."

"Well, most know me as Mr. Freeze…"

"Mr. Freeze… most charming for you, Victor. Maybe I could be called a similar name. Not the same thing, or like Mrs. Freeze, that's your name. Maybe I could be called… Frozen?"

"Frozen…" Freeze muttered, tasting it. "I like it, Nora. I think it fits you."

She smiled, and looked out the window. "Why are we here? We're in Arkham Asylum."

"I know. Batman put me in here, and I begged to have you with me so I could work."

"Why would he do such a thing?"

"I go to no measures to help you."

"Then we shall take our revenge on him for putting you in here for simply trying to cure me."

"That sounds perfect to me."

_Not long at all. At all. But it's only an epilogue, and now this story is over. I've started the next story, Frozen. If you want, I might do the prequil, Joker's Story, but you have to review. Will you review? _

_-AC_


End file.
